


The Two Bagginses and Their Grand Adventure

by hitagashi



Series: Raising Fili Baggins [1]
Category: The Hobbit (2012), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Adoption, Alternate Universe - Canon, Alternate Universe - Family, Arathorn is actually Scone Fiend, BAMF!Bilbo, Bilbo adopts Fili, But Not Much, Family, Gen, Kid Fic, Kink Meme, Know what?, The Author Regrets Nothing, Thranduil is secretly half hobbit, What Was I Thinking?, also hobbits are secretly BAMF, oh and the Company is including Dís, there's a bit of angsting
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-01-29
Updated: 2013-03-11
Packaged: 2017-11-27 09:03:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 24,609
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/660193
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hitagashi/pseuds/hitagashi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bilbo and Fili were respectable Bagginses of Bag End. This was a fact known throughout the Shire and even if they were a bit odd to the hobbits, it was accepted that it was merely something that happens. Fili, whom Bilbo had found on the edge of the Shire and had taken in when the Rangers hadn't returned with news, was a dwarf.</p><p>Of course, everything is ruined when Gandalf shows up talking about adventure.</p><p>AU: Bilbo finds and raises Fili as his own.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LadyRedFeather](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyRedFeather/gifts).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Prompt](http://hobbit-kink.livejournal.com/3393.html?thread=6048577#t6048577%22):  
>  When Fili and Kili were tots they were both kidnapped from Dis and Thorin. The kidnappers thought Kili was Thorin’s child be cause of his dark hair and left Fili on the edge of the Shire to get rid of their excess baggage.
> 
> Here comes along a young Bilbo who has just recently lost his parents and he’s walking out alone to get away from the piting looks of his other family. He finds a hurt and hungry Fili, he convinces the little dwarfling to accept his help and nurtures him back to health. Fili is too young to remember much, and Bilbo sent out a notice to the Rangers of a small dwarf found but he got no replies. So after awhile Bilbo decides he will raise Fili. It gives him purpose. Perhaps the Hobbit children he grows up with don’t treat him any different. His fair hair makes him look like he could be Bilbo’s child so a lot of people assume he’s Bilbo’s biologically.
> 
> Growing up Bilbo told Fili from the start he was a dwarf, but Fili tried to fit into the Hobbit way. Maybe he self teaches himself to do metal work? Goes off to become an apprentice? Maybe when Thorin in company come to get a Burglar, they’re surprised to find a dwarf in the Shire. Fili won’t let Bilbo go alone and comes along. Will Thorin and Kili (who was recovered from the kidnappers) know right away it’s their Fili? Maybe an old necklace or beads gives him away? 
> 
> Have fun!!
> 
>  **Disclaimer** : I do not own The Hobbit and make no money off these writings.

Bilbo and Fili were respectable Bagginses of Bag End. This was a fact known throughout the Shire and even if they were a bit odd to the hobbits, it was accepted that it was merely something that happens. At 33 and 65 respectively, it wasn't unusual for Fili to be out playing with the other children and for Bilbo to be chatting with the other parents. Fili, whom Bilbo had found on the edge of the Shire and had taken in when the Rangers hadn't returned with news, was a dwarf. And, as was the hobbit way, they did a quick tally to see how old he would be, by Shire standards, to be an adult. Because he looked far too young to be an adult. So Fili was a child and watched for the other children.

Now, seventeen years later, Fili and Bilbo were settling down on the bench, Bilbo with his pipe and Fili with the newer pipe he'd been crafting. For his birthday of course. Which was very, very far away but that didn't matter. He planned on giving it to his father, as was hobbit custom. He stopped momentarily, eyebrow raised when Bilbo fiddled with one of his braids.

“We're going to need to redo some of these. What _were_ you doing?” The dwarf had it in him to look sheepish, wiggling his toes and grinning. Bilbo knew that grin. That was the grin he got when Fili went off with Tooks and Brandybucks through Farmer Maggot's crops. “ _Fili_.” He bumped his shoulder with his son's, smirk in place. “You're shaping up to be a right proper Baggins-Took if I say so myself. And I do.”

“I've no idea what you're talking about. There's no proof I've been up to mischief.” He returned to his work even as the hobbit set to redoing his braids. How he knew dwarf braids was still beyond, well, anyone. Except them. Belladonna Took had been adventurous, had known a dwarf or two in her time. But that was in the past. Her knowledge did lead Bilbo to weaving family braids into his son's hair, often carving beads for it or letting his son make them in the forge.

Of course, everything is ruined when Gandalf shows up talking about adventure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So there's the prologue. As of now there are three done and one in progress. Tweaked the timeline so that it's all set 11 years earlier in regards to Belladonna and Bungo dying. The rest is following canon. There will be a side story or two, one is going to be the whole Fili-napping situation. First chapter is VERY short.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bilbo finds Fili.

Bilbo was reeling. His mother had died, he had no father and the _damned Sackville-Bagginses_ were trying to loot his home. It was unacceptable. Hideous, foul, and not respectable in the least. And there was _that_ word again. Whispers of how this could have been avoided if she were a “respectable hobbit lass” were all he heard. She may have _married_ a Baggins but she was still a Took. She was still an adventurer. At the very least she was decent. Never once left people in need. Perhaps in want, as was the case with the Sackville-Bagginses, but never in need.

He decided, as one does, that he needed to take a walk to, well, anywhere. Away from confounded relatives trying to take his things. The hobbit had left some Took relatives he could trust in charge of keeping the others at bay. He was an adult, he didn't need to pass inheritance away. Though he might give some of it to the Tooks. At his birthday, perhaps. Anything at all to not think about....

“Hey now.” The hobbit crouched, tilting his head and looking at the sack that was left at the side of the road. It was wiggling, something trying to get out. It would be just Bilbo's luck for it to be a wet cat or ten. With a sigh, he set about opening it, frowning in worry as a child's head poked out. His face was wet with tears and he was cringing away from the small man. “Oh, oh dear. Well... let's get you out, yes? Oh dear.” Bilbo was feeling rather faint to be honest.

As he worked the sack away from the boy, she took in odd clothes, braids with beads, a prominent nose even at such a young age. He had to think, had to look back into his mind at the texts his mother had always given him. All he could think was that this, this small child, was a dwarf. Which was impossible, wasn't it? They never went near the Shire, not even in search of work. Although his mother had met a few on her way to Rivendell once she'd always told him it was rare to see them.

“Where's Kili?” He was brought from his musings abruptly, looking at the boy as he stood defensively. He was wary of Bilbo, Bilbo of all people! But then... he had been tied into a sack and left on the road. Whoever this Kili was they were obviously important to the distressed child.

“I'm sorry, I've never met anyone named Kili. But I'm Bilbo, who are you?” The blond looked at him for a moment longer before bowing stiffly, whacking himself in the face with his braids when he righted himself. Were the child not distressed, Bilbo might have laughed.

“Fili, at your service.” And then he frowned, eyebrows furrowing and stomach growling. Holding his hand out, the hobbit put on a reassuring smile.

“Come along, I'll feed you. We can send words to the Rangers about you. See if they know about Kili as well, yes?” Fili hesitated, feet scuffing the ground. He'd been there too long for Kili to still be nearby, he knew it. But he needed to find him. “Everything will be fine, you have to trust these things.”

And that was how Bilbo found himself walking hand in hand with a small dwarf child towards the mail station. He was quick to write the missive, fishing about for some coin to pay for it. It was proper, though the postman firmly refused it on the grounds of it being the needs of a child. Hobbits were simple folk, after all, food and a fire were only as important as the family you share it with. Fili worked to keep up, jogging along with him when he fell behind.

“Well then! Here we are, Bag End. My home.” So saying, he moved to his door and ushered the small dwarf-ling inside. When his cousins prepared to leave, he sent them on their way with some scones and tarts he'd made earlier in the day and a quick 'thank you, good evening' for their trouble. Fili had ducked behind him, not wanting to be around others even if the cousins were cooing at his cuteness and offering to bring food and clothes on by the next day. Hobbits cared for children, as plentiful as they were they knew too well how easily they were lost.

Bilbo cast aside thoughts of cold and fear to set about making food. He didn't know how much dwarf children ate but they could always eat it later or the next day. Yes, this in mind, he set about making some chicken with potatoes and a few other vegetables. The hobbit set Fili to munching on rolls while they waited for food. Tea was started, both blonds watching each other. Though for Bilbo it was out of worry and Fili it was wariness.

“I'm sure the Rangers will be back with news soon enough.” He looked down, barely noticing his caretaker coming up and fiddling with a braid at first. “Sorry. There's some brambles in here.” Fingers curled in his sleeve even as his fingers worked steadily, surely moving through the strands to remove the things nestled inside. The dwarf was trying hard not to cry, not out of any pain but because of a sense of loss. He knew that feeling all too well. “My mother knew a dwarf once. Told me braids were _very_ important to you.”

The night was silent from the small boy, only making sounds when he wanted to stop eating, when he was thirsty again, taking more food. Bilbo veered away from topics of family and friends, instead going to hobbit culture. Fili seemed so interested in the fact that they didn't care for gold and jewels aside from as a means to get food for their families. They didn't hoard and when their birthdays came around _the birthday hobbit_ gave the presents. He worked a smile out of him later, when he was tucking Fili into the bed in the guest room. Right next to his, down the hall from his... parents'.

“Well my boy, you managed to eat _more than a hobbit_. I didn't quite think it was possible!” He'd scowled, crossing his arms under the blankets and glaring at Bilbo. “Why, if anyone else were here they'd demand a feast for it! Congratulations my boy, you defeated me at my own game.” The boy had looked annoyed, obviously not believing him. “The only thing we value above a full stomach is family.” That brought a smile and so Bilbo left to get ready for bed.

“G'night, Mister Bilbo.” A nod, golden curls bouncing a bit as he said 'good night' in return and then he was down the hall and in his room, noting with a smile he wasn't feeling so sad anymore. True, the pain of loss was still ever present, but he wasn't feeling worn down upon and tired for any reason other than the need for sleep. He felt as himself again as he crawled under the blanket.

And if Fili moved into his room in the middle of the night and curled beneath the blanket with him, well, he could say the smile was one of comfort. Even if it was really the smile of a hobbit finally come home. Not that he was aware of that yet, of course.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A bath and a story.

“Fili, Fili, settle down _this instant_!” A crack could be heard from the front of the house, the hobbits loitering there looking at each other nervously. “Fili, you will get in that tub or so help me I'll put you in my mother's nightdress!” Another loud and resounding smack and then a splash.

The day after he'd found Fili, Bilbo had waited for his family to come by. One of them, a Brandybuck, had brought him some honey rolls to share with Fili. Which was all well and good. Until Fili spilled honey down his front in an attempt to put more on it. The relatives had wandered out, thanked and laughter following them. And then they heard what was obviously the most stupid utterance to ever be uttered in the history of all things people might utter.

He'd mentioned a bath.

“No!” They peeked in to see the dwarf-ling punching at Bilbo's thighs while the hobbit carted him to the washroom. He'd screamed and kicked and screeched and bit the hobbit on the thigh. Things seemed settled until they reached the room they were headed to. And then the crack sounded followed by the smack.

“You are filthy and covered in honey, Fili, you might attract ants!” And this had been the content of their argument, Fili not wanting a bath and Bilbo trying to reason with a dwarf. A dwarf who did _not_ want to be clean. At all. Ever. The splashing continued and the blond child kept kicking, punching, and biting his host.

“I'm clean! Lemme go!” He kicked again, sputtering when soap dripped into his mouth. “Blech!” This followed by several spitting noises, nasty, gross, horrible noises. In the meantime, Bilbo set to scrubbing him clean and then gave him a look.

“If you behave I'll braid this for you.” The eyes that met his own were screaming 'traitor' but the boy nodded, huffing and then popping a bubble. When the family finally moved away from Bag End it was to the sound of laughter of both Bilbo and Fili. The dwarf child had decided the bubbles made up for the bath part, it seemed.

Later, Fili was dressed in hobbit clothes and tugging at the braids on his head. Bilbo had tried to mimic the others, only needing a little direction from the youth. It was with a freshly cleaned dwarf-ling that the hobbit made his way down to the market. He let him pick things to buy, smiling gently at him. He'd found out, of course, that Fili was _older_ than him. By 22 entire years. But the hobbits he met with all firmly decided 80 was a much more appropriate age for an adult dwarf than 33.

They'd decided to wait three days, three long and tense days before asking on the Rangers. Because they were a fickle folk and patience was easy for a hobbit. But Bilbo worried, he had a feeling there would be no news of any such thing from the Rangers. Whether they forgot or not, he worried he might not be able to reunite Fili with his family before he forgot them. Unfortunately, his little errant thought was correct. Not that he knew that but it was and he would regret ever thinking it.

“Fili, this way!” The blonds both ducked behind a stand, ignoring the fact that the hobbits understood quite well. Fili didn't, though he would later tell Bilbo he didn't understand why he ran away from walking pigs. What with the snorting and such, the hobbit had laughed. Still, as the Sackville-Bagginses left, wandering off and away, he had laughed a bit at Fili's confused expression. All in good fun, mind you.

“Them Sackville-Bagginses are gone, Mister Baggins. No worries no more.” Both the blonds peeked around, careful, inspecting to see if it was truthful. And then they continued on their business, Fili working to keep up with him. It almost came to a head when one of the children bumped into the dwarf, not expecting to be flipped and thrown to Bilbo. A few of the mothers tutted, about to shoo them away.

“Wow!” The hobbit child was laughing, finding himself on the ground and running over to Fili. “That was so cool! Hey, come play with us tomorrow, okay?” Dumbstruck, Fili nodded, looking up at Bilbo for conformation. Both he and the mothers nodded as well. No harm done, but enough fun had to let them all shop in peace.

There had been whispers of men about strange men. It made Fili tense up and Bilbo realize it was Men and not men. Just three days and Fili would have a family coming to get him. No worries about Men about being creepy. Not that they were near, the gossip held that they'd passed through the area and the Rangers had found traces of them. But that was it.

When the pair retired for the night, Bilbo didn't say a word as Fili insisted he slip with the hobbit, clinging to his arm and curling into him. But aside from the Kili he'd mentioned Fili made no mention of, well, anyone. Not a good sign, he would know.

And so the next day came and passed, spent getting Fili used to Bag End for however long he would stay there. Be it a day or a week, Bilbo was ready. The boy had taken to sketching simple designs on the walls in their spare time or when he wasn't outside playing and doing it with such a concentration the hobbit didn't have the heart to interrupt.

The third day was spent together, both painting loops and swirls into the wall over Fili's earlier sketch. With the colors the hobbit hole looked almost happy. At some point in the day, the other children had arrived and by lunch he had nearly thirty different young ones painting his walls as Fili directed. Several of the mothers had taken to helping him make food for all the children.

By the time they all left, his walls were awash with color and pattern, water, mountains, grass, wind, near seamlessly flowing together. He thought on it for a moment, deciding that when Fili left he'd gift him something his mother's dwarf friend had made for and given to her. That night, he told Fili of the Fell Winter. When the young one had asked, tears muffling his voice, why he could barely remember _Kili_ or why he was looking for him, he'd felt his heart break.

“Ready then?” A determined nod, the blond sitting on the floor in front of the fire. “Now then, once, near a century and a half before I was born, there was the Long Winter. It was harsh, killed so, so many. But we of Middle Earth are a hardy folk, you know, dwarf and hobbit the most.” Fili laughed as Bilbo stroked an imaginary beard. “But then, when I was 21, the Fell Winter came about. And though it only lasted two years so many forgot to store. My father didn't think it would last and we, too, nearly fell to the famine.

But that's not what the biggest part of it is. You see, with the snow and ice came the White Wolves. And the Orcs. They came and tried to _hunt_ us. We, the gentlefolk of the Shire, of course, were well versed in keeping unwanted guests out of our homes. But they were a patient lot, knowing better than to charge in. It was close to the end but eventually my mother realized we needed food. So, being the fool of a Took she was, went out and sought to get us food!”

“Did she die?” Blue-gray eyes looked down at the small blond boy, smile in place. Even though the boy was frowning and looked sad.

“No, no my mother lived to be an entire eighty and two years. Quite old for a Man I suppose but about average for a hobbit you see. And she was a tough one, a Took by blood, Baggins by marriage. Do you know what she did? When one of those nasty little Orcs decided to try and eat her? Can you guess?” The little blond dwarf shook his head, leaning forward for more of the story. “She took her trusty garden hoe and knocked him right out. Wham!

Down he went with a mighty cry, flailing and shouting all the while! And you know? I think Mother almost pitied him! Almost, but he was a right fool you see. Said something about eating small ones. Gobble them right up. But my mother, Belladonna Baggins, happened to be a Took by blood. And Tooks, more than any other hobbit, will do what they must to keep their family safe. So you know what she does?

She goes, drags this dizzy and thoughtless Orc to the top of the hill and pushes him down! And he hit quite a few things on the way down. More hurt from the slide and roll than he might be from a fight. But, of course, she had to go back inside. She'd used up her time, used it right up. But that was all right, after all, she defended her family, you know!”

“Did she _really_ do that?”

“Hm, well, I'll tell you what. Tomorrow on the way to the Ranger station we can run by Mister Gamgee's home and he can tell you all about it. He saw, you know. But then, well, soon after the Rangers and Gandalf arrived and we had food and safety. But... we all greatly cherish children even more now.”

“Gandalf?” A nod, watching Fili frown and look confused.

“He's a wizard, my dear boy, a grey wizard! Haven't you ever heard of Gandalf the Grey?” He was met with a shaking head and he tutted, hands on his hips. “Well then, I supposed I'll have to tell you about him! But tomorrow. For now it's time for all good dwarf-lings and hobbits to be in bed.”

“But! But I want _another story_.”

“Hm, I tell you what. Hold off on that other story and I'll make those tarts tomorrow.” He lifted the small dwarf child, laughing when he was met with a tight hug. “Hm, perhaps some honey in warm milk to go with it. What do you think?”

“I can wait for a story, I _promise_!” Bilbo nodded, seemingly serious as he slid into their currently shared room. Fili hadn't wanted to sleep on his own the entire time, apparently afraid Bilbo would up and leave him. Why anyone could let a child think that was beyond him. Obviously when the dwarf child's family showed he'd have to explain it. And so they settled into bed, both nervous for what the next day might possibly bring. After all, what if there was nothing mentioned on it? Bilbo held Fili close that night, smiling sadly at sleep made murmurs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fili no like bath time. -shakes head- Ah well. That's the last update until I finish next chapter. Enjoy mentions of badass Belladonna.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Rangers sent a letter. And a book.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is kinda... slightly angsty? He really does not remember.

Nerves jumped under his skin, made the hobbit twitchy and unsure. Fili was moving slowly, almost as if he held no hope for his family. No, that wouldn't do. Not at all.

“Fili, my boy, come here.” He tapped the boy on the nose, smiling wide at him. “Now, puff up, little one. We've an important day today! And when we get back I'm making tarts for you remember?” The nod was slowly, almost pointless really.

“What if they don't want me?” Bilbo merely smiled softly, pressing a kiss to his head and then pressing their foreheads together.

“If they're fool enough to leave you again, I'll take you in. You'll become Fili Baggins of Bag End. This will be your home so long as you need it.” The dwarf smiled up at him a bit. It was almost resigned, like he was keeping a secret of some sort from the hobbit. It rankled, it stung, actually, made him wonder what could possibly be that serious. With a small sigh, they prepared to go out when a knock came to the door. “Well, who could that be?”

Opening the door produced the postman, grim face in place as he handed over a letter and small book. The man set a basket's handle into Fili's hands with a soft smile.

“Thought you might not want to walk in the rain, little one. But the missus told me to bring you cherry cakes and some blueberry muffins. I'd even wager there being a peach cobbler in there!” Bilbo moved aside, letting him in. As Fili lead him into the kitchen, he took a look at the book curiously. It had a braided spine, made from soft furs over leathers, it seemed. With a small huff, he opened it, blinking at the simple hobbit script of **BRAIDS** at the top. The postman bustled through the door again, hand briefly settling on Bilbo's.

“Thank you.”

“Me and the missus are here. Same with the whole of the Shire. Dwarf or no, he's not much more than a child, Mister Baggins.” A nod and then the door closed and the man was gone. He followed the wet tracks into the kitchen, laughing slightly at Fili eagerly eating one of the muffins. He looked sheepish but Bilbo just set about warming milk and honey together, giving him a cup and considering the book in hand.

“Fili, when lunch is over it's time for a bath.” It was met with a scowl, of course, but he brandished the book. “I've new braids to weave for you, littlest. Why, it even has a section on face braids. When you're old enough you'll have to decide what braids go in your beard!” Fili huffed, kicking his legs. Bilbo smiled in what he hoped was a comforting manner but his attention was back to the letter from the Rangers. And so, he peeled it open, frowning instantly at the words.

_To Bilbo Baggins-Took and Fili,_

_We regret to inform you that we have had no mention pass our ears of missing dwarf children in recent times. Nor ones with the name of Fili or the golden hair you mentioned. Depending on how long he was kept away from home, he could easily have hailed from over the furthest mountains. But, it's more than likely his family either abandoned him or died and he was taken. If the first is what happened we have no doubt that they have met dwarf justice, the loss of fingers and tongues as well as their eyes. If it is the latter... if it is the latter we hope you will keep him well. Because it is likely they took him on account of his fair hair. It's not often you'll see wheat tones in a male dwarf and they may have wanted to sell what they thought was a female dwarf-ling into the sex trade. These folk would meet a similar fate to any abandoning parents._

_So, it has come to our attention that it is best for you to assess where he hails from, how long he has been away, his family line, and the options available. We await the next missive. Should there be no information forthwith, we expect you to find him a proper family. It is with a heavy heart we write this to you as many of us have lost children to sickness, evils that put the Dark Lords to shame, famine, and other such things._

_We will keep our ears to the ground and return any whispers of this matter to you, Mr. Baggins-Took._

_May the path see you to the end._

He noted, briefly, that he had tear tracks going down his face. And that Fili was looking at him almost as if scared for him.

“Fili, can you answer some... some things for me, sweet one?” The boy's brow furrowed but he nodded. “Do you know your family line? I... read from my mother that dwarfs introduce themselves in a peculiar way. Myself, I would introduce as Bilbo, son of Bungo. Do... you remember this?” A shake of his head was the only answer, blond hair swirling about him. “Well... what of where you hail from?”

“I... I don't know. A mountain. I think.” Fili sniffled, trying to hold back some tears.

“Do you know how long you've been gone, my boy?” This said as the hobbit crouched before him, letter and book on the table.

“I was just sixty-three. I remember that but,” hiccuping, fingers rubbing against his eyes. “I'm sixty-five now!” Wet eyes regarded him seriously, eyebrows furrowing. And then he looked beyond Bilbo to the door. “Are you getting rid of me?”

“No. No, my dear boy. No. I needed to know. The Rangers needed to know. No, you can,” trailing off as small arms flung around his neck, Bilbo held the boy close. “You can stay here. I told you. This is home. Remember?” The hobbit held Fili for a while longer, humming softly to him and rocking in place. Later, perhaps the next day, yes, he would read Fili the letter then. Right now it was too difficult on him.

But the boy was little and scared and that, more than anything, meant things like that were best left alone for a time. Stroking blond hair, the song changed into a jaunty tune, one that Fili had to hum along with. A violin would be best for him, perhaps. Fingers carding through the hair that was still free, Bilbo lifted Fili, walking back towards the sitting room with a small hop in his step. It helped the dwarf-ling hide his little sobs, he knew because his mother had done the same for him.

“Lay down... your sweet and weary head.” Fili shifted against him, settling better into his lap when he settled into his armchair. “Night is falling. You have come to journey's end.” The blanket wrapped around them, arms wrapping around a small waist. He pressed his cheek into soft and braided hair. “Sleep now. Dream of the ones who came before.” Then his rocking began, the action slightly comforting for the small dwarf, fingers curling hard into his shirt. “They are calling... from across a distant shore.”

“I'm sorry.” A sigh was all that met him, lips pressing to his forehead.

“Why do you weep? What are these tears upon your face?” Fili huffed, about to answer the question in the song, but Bilbo cut him off. “Soon you will see. All of your fears will pass away. Safe in my arms. You're only sleeping....”

“I'm not sleeping.”

“You should be. Really.” He was met by a hiccup riddled giggle. He smiled, pressing their foreheads together with a soft tap. “How about a cheerier one?” Fili nodded, curling into his side again. Bilbo just heaved a mighty sigh. And bulged his belly of course. The dwarf-ling had laughed a bit and so the hobbit did as requested.

They woke up some time later with horrible cricks in their necks and, in Bilbo's case, tingles of numbness all through his right side where Fili had curled into him. And so he let out an unintelligible string of words and... well, they were understandable but made no sense. After all, saying 'apple banana warg riding loafer snout' made no sense at all. But at least it spurred Fili to laughing and crawling out of his lap.

“Come on, let's clean up. Get you cleaned up,” grinding were his words, Bilbo trying to stand up only to fall into an unimpressive heap. The hobbit flopped onto his back, making melodramatic twitches as he did. “Look at this! See what old age does to a hobbit?” The dwarf-ling helped him up and squeaked as he seemed about to fall. “Why, in my day-”

“I'm older!”

“Hmm, in my day you younguns wouldn't fight your baths!” He tried for his best old man voice, making like he was worrying fake teeth. The laughter that followed was better than the melancholy from earlier. His stomach clenched fitfully at that thought. It would take a while, a good long while. He was sure that, with time, Fili would trust him not to leave. They set to work then, finally, the hobbit and dwarf-ling cleaning up the mess in the kitchen that they (or rather, Fili) had made.

He felt this could and would work and if it tried not to, well, he happened to be a Took, it would.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song is Into the West from the LOTR soundtrack.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gifts and gifts and oh... hello Lobelia.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A few more liberties with timelines. Lobelia's a bit older (she'd be four if we were canon compliant). FOUR. So she's got an extra 13 years tacked on more for her to be 30 when the Company thing happens (otherwise it'd be 11).

By the time Spring rolled around, Fili was settled firmly into life at Bag End and making fast friends with Tooks and Brandybucks more than anyone else, though children of all families still came about. His hobbit hole was now _their_ hobbit hole and each wall had splashes and swirls of color. The child had marveled at how large the home was, asking just once the why. And when Bilbo explained it was because his parents had wanted many children and their hope of him having a large family as well the blond had nodded.

What worried Bilbo were three things. One was that Fili was still having vivid nightmares and didn't want to leave the hobbit's bed. Not that he minded. But he'd awake at night shouting about Kili, Mama, and Uncle. It worried him, made him more sure than anything that those three would still be looking for him. Dwarfs were stubborn, they made sure to never give up. And he doubted Fili's family would. Which brought him to the second thing.

It doesn't so much bother him as it does makes him realize how young, how small the blond was. A few missives between himself and the Rangers, soon Fili would be shooting up further in size. He already went to Bilbo's collar bone but the boy was going to be much taller. The children had delighted in this knowledge, saying he'd be better at games that way and be able to climb better. Mostly, though, Bilbo was worried that Fili would feel awkward.

The last was how he'd teach Fili to fight. Unlike most hobbits, he didn't much care for ranged weapons outside of throwing knives. He could probably find some axes but it would be necessary for him to learn to fight. Not because of his being a dwarf but because people _knew_ there was a dwarf about. If they attacked he'd have no way to defend himself.

“Dad! Dad!”

That was also a worrying thing, eight months and he was officially “dad” whenever he was addressed. It had jarred him, shocked him into a dead faint. But he didn't really care, he was happy to be seen as that, really. Maybe he could ask the mothers of the Shire to help him with the training problem. After all, they were brutal when threatened. Even Lobelia had become taken with him, stopping her harassment to play the dragon for the children when she could.

Which was an apt description and scared him and the other adults to insomnia.

Actually, Lobelia would be perfect for finding that. She was the one who had brought it to his attention. Farmer Maggot had offered him a job when he was an adult (they'd all decided 80 was perfect) and he ran errands about the neighborhood as it was.

“Dad!” Bilbo shook himself, looking down with a smile to his dwarf-ling. “You were away again.” Laughing, the brunet had settled into braiding Fili's hair again. He already had a dusting of hair about his cheeks and chin. When he'd wanted to shave it Bilbo had forbidden it, stating he was a dwarf and would not be doing something so atrocious. The observation logs the Rangers had sent him had helped with that at least.

“The Rangers sent something for you earlier this week, we'll be getting that _before_ Farmer Maggot's birthday party.” He bounced in Bilbo's lap, trying to be patient as the hobbit set fancy braids in and clasped them with wooden baubles. The other mothers had taken to doing the same with their girls and some of the boys had deemed it absolutely necessary to grow out their hair so it wouldn't be Fili alone with his fabulously long hair. Bilbo kept his trimmed, all except a single strand behind his left ear.

“We're gonna braid that too right?” A nod, fingers working the final braid to an end and then presenting his ear to the dwarf child. “Are you ever gonna finish your walking song?”

“Perhaps later. Today's a busy day after all.” Still, he hummed the slight ditty he'd been crafting, smiling as Fili's fingers worked a braid into the hair behind his ear. Wordlessly, he passed over his own clasp, a darker wood used for it, and shook his head as he heard a childish laugh. “The road goes ever on and on.”

“Down from the door where it began!”

“Now far ahead the road has gone.” He winked and swung the dwarf up delighting in the laughter echoing from him. The boy adjusted his proper hobbit clothes, grin in place. Dwarf he may be but he was being raised a good proper hobbit anyway. Just with dwarfish accents.

“ _And I must follow, if I can._ ” So saying, they went out the door, preparing to get to the post office before the next meal.

-

Of course, later, when they returned, Bilbo had nearly shrieked at the sight of one Lobelia Sackville-Baggins standing on his porch.

“Bilbo Baggins! Do you know what I just had a word with the Thain about?” Shaking his head, mutely, he actually had to bite back anger. “I had to tell him about the mess your son caused in my garden! And you know, do you know what I got told? He told me it was a child being a child! This is unacceptable!” Fili was actually shrinking back, eyes wide.

“Now you hold on there, Lo-”

“Now, see, what I want to know is this! Why, Mister Baggins Number Two, did you not just _ask_ for the flowers?” Sharp gaze trained on the little dwarf, she tapped her foot. Everything about her was impatient, hands on her hips and foot tapping. Bilbo wasn't sure what was more terrifying, a livid woman or a livid Lobelia.

Of course, Fili mumbled something so low and fast neither caught it, making them share looks of exasperation. Bilbo tapped the dwarf on the shoulder, smiling down at him kindly. He didn't notice Lobelia making faces at him while only the boy could see but he heard the following laugh. So he looked back, seeing the annoyed expression still in place.

“Well?”

“Making a flower crown for Amaranth Brandybuck since she gave me a kiss on the cheek.” This was mumbled still, but loud enough that the two hobbits heard it. He was flushing to the tips of his ears, hiding behind a curtain of hair. The two hobbits just shook their heads, Lobelia passing by him quickly.

“You ask next time, like a good and proper hobbit!” The Bagginses hurried into their home, trying hard not to laugh at the ridiculousness that was Lobelia being cheery. But then, she always seemed to be on birthdays that weren't hers and Bilbo's. Young as she was she was well into her first year of marriage. Something that had shocked just about everyone. She still lived at home with her Bracegirdle parents but even at 17 she was still firmly a Sackville-Baggins. Bilbo had promised, as one does, to fund the wedding (the union was on Otho's dime, thank you) so long as she promised to let Fili braid her hair up all pretty. Of course she'd agreed quickly and that was the only time he'd ever been hugged by the woman.

He still had terrors about it.

“Dad! Dad, what did the Rangers give me?” He was bouncing, hopping about on his feet and grinning. He took the note first, noticed it was a quick missive to tell them to _be careful_. So with that in mind, he kept Fili back while opening it, nearly jumping when the first glint of metal showed.

“Well, I'll be. Such finely crafted swords and axes. Why, one might think you're going off to war, my boy.” The blond huffed, even as he pulled out another sheet. Apparently his final problem was being solved by the Rangers themselves. Weapons, instructors when they could spare them, a few books on the care of and using the things they'd been given. Though he laughed at the idea of needing help with _throwing_ things. Hobbits were fantastic at that and it seemed his dwarf-ling was just as skilled.

It rankled him though, that he needed to teach his charge how to fight. Were it not for him being a dwarf, he might have scoffed but as he'd thought earlier too many people might try to pick fights. Best he knew how to defend himself and his home, he felt. But looking at the list of days, they had a few days for him to explain the why of this to him.

“Dad, come on! The party's starting soon!” A nod in the boy's direction and they were off, Fili pulling Bilbo along by the hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Amaranth Brandybuck is Primula's oldest sister, Primula being Frodo's mom. She's a perfectly canon hobbit lass. About 19 years old. Basically Fili fancies Frodo's oldest mother-aunt in the smallest of baby crushes.
> 
> ... Adding Lobelia to the character tag list since she keeps butting in. BT Just... be aware I am mostly working by book canon here. Lobelia, despite marrying into the Sackville-Baggins line really isn't the fire breathing sneak fiend people like to think. Sneak fiend, yes though.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A bit of training. Or rather, Bilbo is tackled by a muddy monster named Fili.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so, short chapter. This one fought me so I couldn't work up the will to do much more.

Training started soon enough. The Rangers had taken it upon themselves to see which he preferred first. Delightful as they were, Fili was wary, unsure if he could trust these men. But still, he gave in, starting with axes and hollering in joy when he hit a target. Bilbo supposed being watchers of things made the odd folk patient. Which was good. Because the hobbit ended up with a mud splattered dwarf-ling tackling him in a hug. By mud splattered he meant drenched in mud and twigs from various slips when running to go get his axes.

Not that he was any better. The only reason Fili had agreed was because the Rangers were working with Bilbo as well. Which was really very unseemly. He had immediately shied away from axes and swords, picking up a bow and testing it. With a huff, he'd picked a different one, changed the string, and tried to remember the lessons of his youth. He hadn't had the chance to do the ceremony that came with his thirty-third year what with his mother's death, but he had the chance his next birthday.

“You have to hold it-” He'd raised an eyebrow, hoisting it up and holding it as he'd been taught. Sure and large hands and adjusted his hold and stance a bit before nodding. “Forgot about you lot using bows and arrows for rights and such.”

“Big folk don't tend to notice us, that's why.” No, not the hobbits who were light on their feet and moved like a shade in the presence of larger things. Fili had taken to the hobbit way of walk, talk, and dress much like a fish to water. The first time he'd managed to sneak up on Old Took the old hobbit had laughed himself hoarse. Skill with stealth, something most might not realize.

It was with a soft exhale that the arrow released, a thump echoing as it dug into the target. He liked ranged weapons. Though the few new recruits had laughed at him when he'd mentioned conkers. He'd shut them up right quick with an explanation of how _painful_ being hit with one of those was.

Fili had laughed himself straight into a mud puddle actually.

Bilbo still wasn't sure what was so funny.

(He was told later it was the man's face matching his hair in embarrassment.)

But his involvement had called Fili to the Rangers' sides, babbling excitedly about _adventure_ and other such unsavory business. But they humored him, telling him of places they'd been. Of the kingdom of Rohan, of Rivendell, Lothlorien, of all the places the little dwarf-ling might want to go. They worked on his stance, made him stand right and proper, only teaching him a few basic swings.

“Here, here, come learn how to stand, with him.” Bilbo squeaked, the sound very much unbidden, but did as instructed, standing where they placed him. He felt silly, flushing indignantly when the leader of the group had the gall to put his _hands_ on his _hips_. Really, terribly indecent. Or so he told them. And received a light smack to the back of the head in the man's amusement.

“You know, dear man, I might think you're overestimating my ability to learn.” He snorted, adjusting his stance _again_ and nodding when Fili mimicked. The hobbit knew that it was more for the little dwarf's sake than for anything but it was weird.

Then again so was a hobbit holding a sword so he supposed he understood. The sword he held was apparently a short sword to most the big folk. It was light but awkward in his hands, made of a beautiful metal. When asked, they'd mentioned it being of Elf make. To hold something elvish, it had almost made him drop it. The Tooks, his mother's family, had long held the idea that once upon a time they'd wed and bred with elves. Though they told other hobbits it was a fae, it was well known that once, a long time ago, a Fallohide lass had born a child of an elf king.

“You ready then, Master Baggins-Took?” He started, the name always making him a bit jumpy. These Rangers were driving him mad. But he'd found they held the Tooks in high regard, especially his mother and Old Took. So, he moved as directed, trying hard to remember the stances and cursing his not remembering to bring a journal. Record the poses, note their purpose. He'd do it later, he felt.

“Break for lunch!” This said by one of the watching Tooks, the leader of the group settling back with a grin. Fili rushed to wash off his hands, Bilbo close on his heels. They couldn't very well eat if they were filthy. The men followed sedately, washing up their hands as their turns came.

And so they carried on, working on stances and breaking for meals. These Rangers would be in Tuckborough for the week before traveling on. Apparently, though, they'd arranged for others to come every other week for as long as they were able. When the time came for them to leave, the leader left him a book, smirk in place.

“A book of stances, Master Baggins-Took. May your feet be ever light.”

“Until tomorrow, Master Arathorn.” If, for the next week, Bilbo took to swapping tales, no one made mention.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fact, Fallohides knew elves, hunted, traveled over the mountains north of Rivendell, and were the most learned of original hobbit types. They also tended to be fairer and taller. Bilbo's mother was a Took, Bilbo is a Baggins-Took even if he's a Baggins in name. And yes, Arathorn as in, Arathorn II, Aragorn's papa. This takes place 10 years before his death when he's about 50 or so and 8 years before Aragorn was born. I'm contemplating the elf that did the dirty with the hobbit lass being Oropher for funsies but it's not set yet.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Bilbo tells a story about an elf king and a hobbit lass and Arathorn is a glutton for scones.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story? TOTALLY BSING IT. Because I thought it was funny and it kinda poured out. Kinda a filler chapter. But! BUUUUUUT! Bilbo storytelling.

Bilbo had wondered what story he was going to share with Arathorn on the final day. Despite the want to train, the rainstorm that beset the Shire suddenly had changed the plan. So, the hobbit and his charge had invited Arathorn to stay the day with them. They'd thought to extend the offer but the other Rangers had been drafted to assist the Tooks in their work for the day.

“Dad! Come on, we need a good one! What about one of those really really old ones?” Fili bounced, excited as they made second breakfast up. Arathorn would be arriving soon enough, it made Bilbo jittery and he couldn't explain it. What would he tell the man? Perhaps of his Took heritage? He seemed to have great interest in it, after all. And Old Took had given permission for it. But how far back could he tell him? Perhaps the romancing of the Great Berrirose, Mother of Tooks?

“How about a romance tale of old, dearest?” Fili stuck out his tongue and it settled in Bilbo's mind that he was telling the Took family's most sacred of tales. It wasn't forbidden to share but... what would happen if he did? He sighed, fingers working the dough for bread he was preparing to bake. The sharp knock was met by a squeal from his charge and he nodded to himself.

Definitely Berrirose. The man liked romantic stories more than any person he'd ever met. Even more than a hobbit lass! He slid the bread into the oven, smiling as he turned and watched Arathorn flipping Fili in his hands. The dwarf-ling was screeching with happiness.

“Here, give me your cloak. You can leave your weapons and boots there.” He gestured vaguely at the spot near the mat, hanging the wet cloak on the rack. Fili watched, amazed, at all the weapons that Arathorn took away and then laughed at the coat being placed beside his cloak. Made him seem a bit smaller, more homely.

“So, what's the story for today, Master Bilbo?” And oh, how it had taken him _so much_ to make him call him Bilbo. By so much he meant, of course, ignoring him and interrupting him until he called him by name.

“You seem to like romance tales, Mister Arathorn, I've decided to tell you of the romancing of the Great Berrirose, Mother of Tooks. She had a child with an elf, you see.” He almost laughed at the comically wide eyes and excited movements of his guest. Still, he shooed him into his kitchen, hands on his hips and a laugh on his lips. He watched as the boys scrambled to sit so he could feed them with a barely restrained chuckle.

Acting like they never ate, _really_.

But he settled them, slid food in front of them and delighted in their digging in with gusto. Petulant as he could be, Fili adored the romance stories just as much as Arathorn. If he hadn't any clue otherwise, he'd say he was preparing to court someone. Could be Amaranth.

Probably was.

Actually, it seemed like Arathorn was trying to pick courting tips out of them too. Kind of funny, if you asked Bilbo.

“Right then, story yes?” Sometimes he marveled at being younger than the two in front of him. And Arathorn's being younger than Fili too. It seemed rightly impossible. But, still, he just grinned, settling into his chair and chuckling as they crowded on the carpet in front of him. “Now, once, long ago, when we hobbits were over the mountains and nomadic folk, there was a young lass named Berrirose. No one's quite sure who her parents were anymore, but she was a Fallohide born and true. She was tall for a hobbit, stood quite about where most of the dwarf people do. And, like all Fallohides, she was fair of skin and had hair spun of gold. Then, us hobbits weren't quite as rotund as we are now but we've always held an image of her being sturdy of build but formed like the hills we now call home.

When Berrirose came of age, as was custom, she held rights with the elf folk in the forest close, spoke the tongue of elves, and sang to call herself home. We were always told that the song was a sad thing, a sorrowful thing, the sound of someone whose heart could not claim it had found its other half. It was this song that led to the romancing by one elf. Now, it wasn't unusual for elves and hobbits to wed and breed, but often the hobbit would stay with the elves.

Berrirose rejected him.” He held back a smile as they gasped in shock. “Now, mind you, he was rather pretentious. Thought he was the best there was. He tried to wow her with feats of strength, with shows of wealth, everything he could possibly claim to his name, he felt. But it wasn't enough. He adored her, truly, but he wasn't one for pleasantries and sweetness. The elf was known to be fierce in battle and to have a blood lust so strong it puts most evils to shame.

But, he wouldn't give up, instead, he approached her one day and spoke. 'I have shown you my wealth, my strength, my power. I have given you all that is sought from me. But you still, always, reject me. Do you truly hate me so?'

This caused her to stop her actions, made her consider him as carefully as if he were a riddle. 'I do not hate you,' she said, 'but I am a hobbit and hobbits are simple folk. I can give you trials, but if you wish to woo me you will not treat me as if I am some superficial fool.' And this made him brighten, made him nod enthusiastically.

'Anything!' He exclaimed, hair wild about him, 'just give me a chance to prove my worth!' And-”

“Dad! Dad! What was his name?”

“If you wait, I'll tell you. It comes up soon.”

“Do you promise?” This from his guest, making his eyebrow raise as he nodded. The two watched him closely for a lie before grinning and nodding in turn.

“Where was I? Ah yes. And so he pledged himself, waiting for her first trial. 'Find me a fae who lies.' This gave him pause for what fae can lie? He almost asked but she had gone, off to tend to her chores and so, the great elf pondered. And pondered. With a sigh, he set out to find this one thing. Three days later he managed to find a fae who would help him, not sure how it would work but willing to grant the fae a lock of his hair in return if it worked.

'Mistress Berrirose, I presume?' The odd creature had said this and approached her, the elf close behind and frowning worriedly. After all, how would this fae help him? He watched, bewildered, as she smiled in delight at the thing.

'Why yes! Hello, I would greet you properly but I know not your name,' she answered, giving a curtsy to her. 'Are you here to help him?'

'Yes, miss. My name is Clover, of the Sidhe. You seem to have confounded him, simple as the elf can be.' There would be a note, later, that the elf had looked about ready to throttle the fae. 'But I am a fae, and I can lie.'

'Can you truly?' Now, Berrirose was known for her riddles, you see. For how can one lie? Why, one can tell a falsehood or one can lie down to rest! But she acted suspicious, delighted that the elf could rely on others for his goal. You know, this was her real test. To find if he would be obstinate and refuse help. 'Well, show me, if you would be so kind!'

The fae dropped and lay down on her back, laughing merrily. And so she collected her precious hair, helping the elf to complete the first trial. His reward was a kiss to the cheek. 'Bring me an elf which looks like a man but talks like a dwarf.' This was his next trial and he would have despaired. But he was strong. And he had a friend in another mighty elf who fit the description.

Bringing Gil-galad to his home was difficult, mind you, the elf was a bit of a stick in the mud at times. But he obliged, more to avoid any more carrying on by the elf about Berrirose. 'If I hear her description one more time, my friend, I shall lop off my own ears!' And so they took off. It took nearly a year for this, the elf's feelings never diminishing. But when he returned, he returned to the realization that some other hobbit was trying to court her!

It took everything for Gil-galad to hold back his friend, made the hobbit try and reason that this one was too violent, too angry. Do you know what she did? She picked up her hammer, for she was one of the smiths who made the pots you see, and hit him in the middle. And she scared the hobbit off all on her own, yelling and swinging the whole while. And the elf? Why, his love for her grew! After all, if she was fierce enough, he could teach her to fight and none would stand a chance in battle against them!

'I have brought him, dearest Berrirose,' he said the moment he reached her, 'My friend, this is Berrirose, is she not as wondrous as I said?' All that received was a clout, Gil-galad about ready to strangle him, or so the story tells.

'You know he is a fool, do you not?' This asked as the hobbit lass sized him up and she swung her hammer again, hitting him in the shoulder. He laughed at it. 'So long as you do. I look enough like a man to pass in towns and I have long since known the language of the dwarrows.'”

“What's a dwarrow?” Fili bounced, curiosity spurring an interruption.

“It's an old term for dwarf and dwarfs, dear heart. Now may I continue?”

“Yes, Dad!”

“Really now, well. Ah yes! 'Give me proof.' This gave the elf pause because he was not meant to share his knowledge. She insisted, however, taking them somewhere secret.

'Gil-galad, ai-menu Duzhuk.' He said. From our stories, we only know this means _at your service_ but it introduced them. She had heard, of course, of this elf. And finally, she smiled and nodded to the other elf. She had known who he was, was unsettled by his want to wed a simple hobbit lass like her. But he had done two seemingly impossible things. Things that were riddles and not, things that someone who was more for war than thought would normally give up on. An entire year.

'You have worked hard for my favor. I have one last task.' Gil-galad was there to witness this, though he didn't know it. 'Tell me why you wish to wed me.' And how could he answer this? Her beauty didn't account for it, her kind heart but fierce temper, her protective streak, her clever mind? All of these, yes, but how could he say that his heart had ached and his soul had reached for her when he heard her sing? He endeavored to, anyway.

'Your song,' he whispered, 'my entire being reached for you when you sang. I ached for you when your sadness showed and my soul mourned at the loneliness but I boiled when I realized someone else may win your hand.' And the look the elf showed then was rumored to be so heartbreaking that the forest around them felt it. 'I would lay down everything for you. If you wish me to never battle, I will not.

If you wish, for any reason you claim, for me to hand over my crown to you, I shall. If you want me to throw it away then you need only say it.' And... no, don't interrupt, I'll explain shortly, thank you. And this brought tears to her eyes, made her smile a smile so bright it rivaled the sun.

'You, King Oropher of the Woodland Elves, are a mighty fool. But if you will have me, I shall endeavor to be the best wife you could wish for.' And so, with Gil-galad their witness, Berrirose and Oropher became betrothed. This king, who was said to be heartless and cruel, had worked to earn the favor of the one creature who his essence called out for.

And so it passed that the following summer the Great Berrirose wed the Elf King Oropher. They did not have many children, only two. One who was more an elf than a hobbit and the other more a hobbit than an elf. And so it came to pass that Berrirose became the Great Berrirose, Mother of Tooks and Task Giver. It's said that their first son, the elf, is still alive. The second son, Isengrim Took, went on to father the head of the Took line. It is said that Berrirose lived a long life and died in battle along with Oropher, her final words being to her husband:

'I shall love you forever.'” The two listening were watching him carefully, curious as to that last sentence. “The flower Berrirose has three meanings: choose your destiny, I won't give up my promise, and I'll love you forever.”

“You're related to Thranduil!” Blue-gray eyes widened a bit in mirth, shrugging. “If the story's true, that is.”

“Why, dear Arathorn, one might think you're doubting a hobbit's word! Dangerous thing, that. Might take away your scone rights.” He leveled a serious look to the man, watched the blood drain from his face. His love of the scones Bilbo made amused not only Bilbo but all his men. He stuffed himself on them whenever he could. But Bilbo was already up, pulling finally finished bread out of the oven.

“What? Doubting? Who's doubting?”

“He's not doubting! I'm not either, Dad! Nope! Can we have scones now?” And Bilbo laughed, setting out some marmalade and jam and waving absently at the already disappearing treat. Really, he'd have to give the man the recipe so he could convince people to make them. Because he was hopeless in a kitchen.

“Now then, elevensies is up! Fresh bread is out and it's time for sandwiches, scones and pie. What do you two think? All he got was enthusiastic nods and two people digging in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oropher and Berrirose, most awesome duo ever. It kinda... just happened. I'm in a story writing mood right now. Avoiding an original UTAU song like the freaking plague. Also Arathorn is Scone Fiend. This is now RFB canon. That is literally the only Khudzul any Took knows. And only Tooks and those they trust with tales.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time passes and Fili is larger than Bilbo.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so this is a large time span that I cover in this chapter but really, nothing of importance happens. Warnings for mentions of Arathorn dying, Fili and Bilbo grieving.

The rest of the years pass too quickly for the two Bagginses of Bag End to really notice. Arathorn only manages to come back near a year after he leaves but they welcome him in and trade stories. He eats more scones in one sitting than a hobbit can in a day and it makes Bilbo question the sudden aching dread he feels. He laments over Fili being over a head taller than him for a bit until he realizes the dwarf is perfectly healthy for his kind. And so it continues, ten years of it. Until suddenly Arathorn stops coming. They didn't mind, the man was a father after all. But Fili, 75, had a feeling it was much worse than that.

They get the news on a rainy day, much like when they received news of Fili being in need of a home. Arathorn's steward of sorts arrives, two cloaks in hand. They'd been a gift intended for Fili coming of age in five more years.

But Arathorn couldn't give them to the dwarf anymore and Bilbo pretends he's not sobbing over the loss of his friend. Not when he had things he needed to do. Fili was out, he had to find the words for it. And the Ranger left quickly, leaving the hobbit to crumble to the floor in his sadness. That was how his son found him, coaxed the story out through warbling tears and hiccups.

This is the first time in eight years Fili has slept in Bilbo's bed and he curled around the hobbit, holding him while they grieved.

But life carried on. He and Fili trained, kept the weapons hidden so as not to alert anyone to their existence at all. But they both kept a small knife on their persons at all times, something Arathorn had bothered them into doing when he was there. They hadn't when he was alive but after... well, they're cautious now. They prepare scones that neither of them eat on the anniversary of the day they met the man and hope wherever he went when he died has scones.

This earns laughter. Though the entire Shire had mourned the loss of the kind Ranger who would help them with nothing more than a smile and payment being the right entertain their children. Time moved, slowly at times, but when one raised another, it passed quickly.

(They ignored the pang of sorrow whenever it struck at the places that seemed to have the man's lingering presence.)

It's twelve years after they met the Ranger that Fili finally mentions that he's realized no one in the land of hobbits is his One. As odd as the concept was, Bilbo understood, patting him on the arm and sending him on his merry way. He's precious, he tells himself, and he shouldn't have to know sorrow. His facial hair is growing in marvelously and when he makes to chop it off, the hobbit smacks the scissors away, barely trimming the ends and styling it but not doing anything else to it.

“Proper dwarf men don't do much more than trim their bears and hair for split ends. The women don't care much at all.” And that ended that discussion, blond hair swishing as he shook his head.

His hobbit hole is much more colorful by the time Fili finally reaches 80, the dwarf able to reach every part of the wall and ceiling. He did the same for others, Tooks, Brandybucks, the Gamgees, several Baggins homes, even Old Took's home is awash with color. But always he works to make their home the brightest and most cheerful.

The dwarf works the forge when he's not painting, working in Maggot's fields, or at the Green Dragon. He spends time each day baking with his dad but the hobbit knows, deep down, that the boy longs for adventure. To help this, the older hobbit sends him looking for things that he's placed through the wood. It's not the best way but it helps, the wanderlust the blond feels tempered into a burgeoning curiosity. And if it furthers his learning Sindarin, the only thing Bilbo says is how to correct his work. Life was good and routine. Many wondered at old Mad Baggins and why he never wed and had _more_ children but adopted or not, Fili was quite enough.

(Lobelia grew into a fierce woman, her wedding was Fili's gift to her on his birthday.)

Two years later and Gandalf arrives, bearing news of the adventure that Bilbo has come to fear. He knows, without a doubt as he looks over at Fili, that if he accepts he'll probably lose Fili one way or another. And so he declines, Fili mimicking the action, and they go back in side.

After Thorin leads the song, it will be the first time in seven years that Fili curls into bed around his father, holding him close as if the dwarfs sitting in the front room will take him away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Arathorn is the Scone Fiend of the afterlife. Fili is literally able to curl Bilbo into a ball and cuddle him. Gandalf is a meddler, obviously. Next installment, the good morning scene thing. FILI AINT AMUSED DWARF PEOPLE.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Company is made. The lucky number? Fifteen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait! Have a 5K chapter. Meet the Company, thirteen fabulous dwarfs. Fili is pronounced more like a filly (female baby horse) compared to the fee-lee.

It should be noted, now, that there is a misconception about hobbits. People believe that halfling is an acceptable thing to call them, but really, this is an insult. Hobbits are small and like a good home and well tilled earth. They're just a bit shorter than dwarfs and like their stone bound counterparts, they're not ones to wander. At least, not anymore. Long ago, too long now to be remembered, they were wanderers and vagrants. They're happy and like to party and wear bright colors but they've keen eyes and keener ears than most.

At times, they even get so much that they put some elves to shame. These creatures were said to be branched from men and they agree, far too readily at times, but the family Took are proud of their elf heritage. It should be noted, however, that there is a reason a dwarf in the Shire isn't wanted. Not just because hobbits are wary of outsiders, gentle folk that they may be, but because of someone waiting down at the Green Dragon.

Of course, all stories start best before this point as that's the middle of this particular point, and this needs a beginning. It starts with a hobbit and his son sitting on a bench. The son is carving into something wooden and small, a pipe of all things. But the most notable thing is the son is a dwarf and this is why other dwarf folk are not welcome. Many of the people there will fight with spade and fork, scythe and sickle, to keep this boy safe. Raised as a hobbit, they don't want any dwarf taking away their dwarf.

But it comes to pass that someone even more unwelcome but also always wanted appears down the road. Though the Shire has not seen the wizard Gandalf in many years, they all know the pointed hat and gnarled staff. All of them know he's an adventuring type and none want him by. They stash their children, some about ready to rush ahead to Bag End to have Bilbo stash his own. But they don't make it and he makes his way up to the hobbit hole, hiding his shock at the sight of a dwarf sitting by a hobbit.

“Good morning!” Bilbo raised his pipe, puffing out smoke and smiling in greeting. Fili continued carving, muttering something in Hobbitish to his father. A small chuckle met him and gray brows furrowed. The wizard had never met a dwarf who spoke the language and even he had been unable to get to know it. He looked up, though, up at the hobbit on the bench by the dwarf. The dwarf who looked like the Lady Dís' fallen husband and a bit like the lady herself.

“What do you mean?” This drew the blond's attention and everything in the wizard screamed that this was Fíli, brother of Kíli, son of Dís, and nephew of Thorin. But he continued anyway, watching them as they looked on each other in confusion. “Do you wish me a good morning, or mean that it is a good morning whether I want it or not, or that you feel it is a good morning, or that it is a morning to be good on?” And Bilbo, well known for his love of riddles, had to fight the smirk off his face. Fili merely grinned, returning to his carving.

“All of them at once,” Bilbo replied, puffing on his tobacco with a sly smirk, “you look quite familiar, sir, gray robes, hair, hat, and a gray stone in your staff, hm?” A nod was given and the wizard almost seemed pleased until he caught the twinkle of mischief in Bilbo's eyes as he nodded again. “Seems we've Merlin the Magnificent here, Fili!” The blond let out a small snort, nodding enthusiastically. “Come to peddle some magical wares then?”

The wizard huffed and tapped his staff once, completely ignoring the name at the moment in favor of the insult to his person. Really, hobbits were such precocious creatures when the mood struck them. They could veil an insult within a compliment, could make one question their sanity, intelligence, and right to profess a skill all in one fell swoop. While he was always impressed with the way hobbits, especially Bagginses, could weave words, he was rather put off. “I am Gandalf and Gandalf means me! Merlin the Magnificent, indeed!” A huff, watching as the smirk curled further. Oh, that little brat! “To think that I should have lived to be bid good morning by Belladonna Took's son, as if I was selling buttons at the door!” But then he caught the look again and huffed. “And to think I've been had so easily!”

“Well, you know, we Baggins folk believe a mind in reprieve is a mind in need. Mustn't rest your mind too much, lessens your skill in words!” The blond beside him nodded, still working on the pipe in his hands with a sort of dedication only seen in hobbits. Even dwarf folk could hardly match an obstinate hobbit's stubborn nature, even if they were more polite about it. “What brings you here? Fireworks? We've no parties planned this week!”

The magical man shook his head, considering the hobbit with great curiosity. Why, if he were anyone else he'd think the Took-son was settled. Settled! What Took ever settled? Even Belladonna had gone off on adventures after she wed, only stopping when the child was born but taking off again when it was sure he was all right with it! She even took him along sometimes, no further than Bree, but still along.

It made him fight a frown. A settled Took and a hobbit-like dwarf prince did not settle right in his head. Though if he took away the prince piece, he supposed he could overlook the matter of... wait. “Why, for an adventure of course! You and Fíli, there!” Blue-gray eyes narrowed on the wizard and even the dwarf glared up at him.

“My name is Fili, not Fíli.” Bilbo nodded, both hobbit and dwarf standing and nodding curtly to their uninvited guest. “We'll not be having any adventures, thank you.” Blond hair swung a bit as he nodded, turning to tug his father into the smial.

“You may try over The Hill or across The Water, you might find yourself with adventurers there. But there are none here,” he smiled wryly, blue-gray eyes narrowing into a distrustful glare, “good morning. Come for tea sometime later this week.” And with a nod, he slunk into the smial and tried to ignore the gritting of his own teeth. He had a bad feeling, Gandalf was there and there had been murmurs of dwarf folk near the edges of the Shire.

“Dad?” He turned his eyes to his son, leaning up and pulling him down to press a kiss to his forehead.

“I'd appreciate you going to the Green Dragon while I tidy up. I suspect he'll be by tonight instead of later this week.” Fili about interrupted, shoulders hunching and the pipe that he'd been carving for his dad sliding into the box he kept it in when it wasn't in progress. “You know you hate cleaning for guests. Besides, I'm going to put a new coat of that sheer on the walls all over.” The dwarf's nose curled at the thought.

“I'll be back just before supper, all right?” A nod, smile sinking when he made to leave. And then he was pushing Fili towards the secret wall in his room. The boy settled the knife Arathorn he'd originally given to him in its customary place, putting the newer of the two (and it hurt to think it was his last living gift, their protection) in a place near it.

The bad feeling was weighing on the dwarf even as he made his way out of the hobbit hole, not letting himself do much more than linger at Lobelia's on the way to the inn. She lightly smacked his arm but his thin lips drew her irate gaze more acutely than anything else. He smiled, waving and jogging down to the Green Dragon. They'd likely be needing help preparing for a night of the festivities. He hummed a tune then, a song he'd worked on with Amaranth, Paladin, and Saradoc. “ _You can drink your fancy ales! You can drink them by the flagon! But the only brew for the brave and true.... Comes from the Green Dragon!_ ”

-

Bilbo had just finished preparing his and Fili's supper and was starting on the sides when a knock came. He considered it for a moment before returning to pulling out what he needed. He'd just finished the setting when the knock came again, harder, making him quirk his brows in annoyance. But he was a hobbit and polite. But he wasn't one to suffer fools lightly. He would regret, later, opening the door.

(Because he ate Fili's food, because he's a threat to their family.)

“Dwalin, at your service,” he nodded as he spoke, watching curiously as the hobbit bowed swiftly in return.

“Bilbo Baggins, at yours. Why are you here?”

“I was told there would be food.” And this was all the warning he had before Dwalin pushed by him. But Bilbo glared, stomping after him and barring him from directly entering the kitchen.

“You're welcome here but you will remove your muddy boots.” He did, quickly, and moved into the kitchen and started _eating Fili's food_ and oh, he was going to _hit_ this dwarf. It was awful, really, that he was busy being polite. And he'd hate himself for it later. He started in on the food, chomping through various things.

“You'll be wanting to mind the,” he stopped at the fact that Bilbo was moving into his pantry, peeking his head out in amusement at the gobsmacked look on the dwarf's face.

“How many then? I invited Gandalf, failed to mention I'd be hosting _others_ with him.” He heard a murmured **thirteen** and knew he was including himself. It was a Fili thing, he was used to it. But fourteen folk aside from himself and Fili, he was lucky he'd gone shopping earlier that day. Not that he'd have any food left in his pantry after.

“Not like the other hobbits.” Blue-gray eyes turned to him curiously and then rolled, Bilbo moving and preparing more food. Because that's what he needed to do. Keep them focused on food and not on Fili, allowing him to slip in through one of the other entrances and stay hidden. Or he could send him to stay with Lobelia. That might do wonders for his peace of mind.

He was in the middle of peeling potatoes when he heard the next knock, mouth twitching into a frown. Well, he'd be an awful host if he had them help but how was he to feed the lot without it. So he finished peeling the potato, setting it aside and moving to the door quickly. He opened it to a white haired dwarf that was looking up at the sky when he did. He'd seen the look he'd been granting others that were watching though.

“Balin, at your service!” He was cheery, he supposed, and took note of the boots at the wall and shucked his quickly. Dwalin moved out of the kitchen, smile firmly on his face while Bilbo moved in and returned to his cooking. No hobbit would ever let their guests go hungry. He heard a chorus of **brother** and then two heads cracking together and... ow. “You wouldn't happen to have seed cake and beer, would you?”

Bilbo looked up at him, gesturing to a cabinet behind Balin's head. “Seed cakes are on the top shelf on the left. If there's really a total of _thirteen_ of you, I'd ask that you bring up the beer. I've food to be making.” He motioned to a door to the cellar, pleased when Dwalin went off immediately. Balin lingered, watching him carefully.

“Are we interrupting something?”

“Hardly, I was but expecting a quiet night with my son is all, no worries. A guest is always welcome, especially one who appreciates good food and drink.” A nod and the white haired dwarf disappeared down the staircase. Already, Bilbo was considering things. Obviously they were going to be spending the night, far too late to go elsewhere, and he could fit them. But what about Fili?

This continued, the two dwarfs bringing up kegs and eating his food. Things were going well indeed, he felt he could handle all these folk. It was when they went downstairs again that the door opened all on its own. “Dad! I'm back!” Nodding to himself, he watched Fili stroll in and take in the mess. “We're entertaining the dwarf folk, aren't we?” Hunching his shoulders was the only reply before his son was setting about fixing up food.

And the doorbell rang.

“Fili, can you watch the food?” Blond head nodding, they didn't notice the odd look given by the two dwarfs as they drew up. His ears pricked at the grumbles of their language and knew, without a doubt, that he would have a _reason_ to draw a knife tonight. Opening the door, he was met with the image of two people at his door. But, as was mentioned earlier, hobbits have keen eyes and keener ears and he could tell, somehow, that this was a woman. She dressed as a man, looked like a man, but there were feminine things about her that he could immediately tell.

“Dís.” She nodded, voice deep and, to most, masculine, but he was a hobbit and his keener ears picked up the feminine lilt.

“And Kíli.” He smiled and shifted.

“ _ **At your service.**_ ” They bowed together, standing straight with matching grins.

“You must be Mister Boggins!” He barely suppressed his laughter and heard Fili's ring out behind him at Kíli's statement. Kíli shoved on by him, similar to how Dwalin had, Dís only doing so after giving him a sort of... odd look. She walked into the smial proper, turning and giving him a smug grin.

“Careful with these, they've just been sharpened. Apologies for my son, tried telling him it's Baggins.”

“It's nice, this place! Did you build it yourself?” He flinched at the dwarf moving to wipe his feet on his mother's _glory box_.

“Kíli! You've seen one of those, don't you do it.” Bilbo laughed, smiling and answering the question the now contrite dwarf had asked before.

“Mother and father built it, I'm afraid,” Bilbo shook his head, closing the door and watching Dwalin pull Kíli into the dining room. They followed, Bilbo immediately moving through to the kitchen and butting his hip against Fili's thigh when he moved in beside him. They heard the sound of cheer, Dwalin and Balin both moving food out to the main table.

“To think we'd been planning just a simple dinner, hm?” He vaguely heard Dís laughing amongst the male dwarfs. When he realized they'd cooked all that was needing to be cooked before eating, he sent Fili to watch the hall to their rooms. Couldn't have snooping, after all.

“We'll eat later?” He nodded, moving to answer the door when it was practically pounded on. Really, how terribly rude of them. He was proven right that it was a them and not a he (or a she) and they all fell on top of each other. His nose twitched, ears picking up the sounds of strained breathing from beneath the group.

Gandalf stepped over them, easing them all to their feet, including the one at the very bottom of the pile. He looked like a slightly narrower but definitely masculine as he stood. Bilbo had to be the one to hold him up, noting how the other didn't want to be touched _at all_. “Boots off and over there, weapons, if you're dropping them, just around the corner. There's food in the dining room and... oh dear me.”

Lobelia was at the door as well, hands on her hips and glaring. “Bilbo _Baggins_! Where is your son? Are you really allowing these miscreants around him?” He laughed, offering her room to go in. But with a narrowed gaze she took in Dís and turned, stomping down the path with a mention she'd mind his silver. Whatever that meant. So he closed the door, turned, and went to stand with Fili. Of course, he watched as all of them took to eating, eating and eating and still not managing to eat like a hobbit.

At one point Dwalin got his hand stuck in the cookie jar and bilbo had to assist him in removing it. But by the time anyone was remotely done eating, he was ready to be beating Gandalf. So he, Fili, and the wizard were in the receiving hall and he was yelling at him in the hobbit way. “While it's fantastic to have guests-”

“Truly, we're happy to have them-”

“ _ **Why are they here?**_ ” And then the one named Ori came out, smiling sweetly at them both. He was apparently older than Fili and while Bilbo didn't quite believe it, he was charmed by his sweetness. Even Fili was, though the blond didn't dare admit it aloud. The teasing would never end if he did!

“Excuse me, I'm sorry to interrupt, but what should I do with my plate?” He smiled a bit shyly, rocking on his feet and watching Bilbo for a reaction. The hobbit made to grab it, stopped by furred shoulders nudging him aside and into Fili.

“Here you go, Ori, give it to me,” Dis said, picking up the plate from his hands. Then she _tossed his plate_ to Kíli and the two Baggins folk watched in horror as he spun and sent it into the dining room. Those were Belladonna Took's plates! His mother's and Fili's grandmother's. This was unacceptable! And another flew by, Kíli repeating his action carelessly. They peaked in through another doorway to the dining room and watched the... Bifur? They thought it might be Bifur but then, they weren't sure. Still, he caught them.

“Excuse me! That's my mother's china!”

“It's over a hundred years old!” And stacked them in hand as more plates and bowls flew by. The wizard ducked and dodged, laughing when they broke his smoke rings. The two of Bag End had to watch in horror at all the tossing and throwing and bouncing. He'd given no thought to it until he saw some splash at the walls but they were tossing cups full of tea or ale or beer across as well! They entered the dining room just as those at the table started a beat with forks, knives, and spoons.

“Can you, can you not do that?” Really, how were these folk _raised_ if they thought this acceptable?

“You'll blunt them!” That, Fili thought, was the worst thing about it too! What use was good silver if it was blunted and bent? The one with the hat, two braids under it, chimed in then.

“Ooh! You hear that, lads, he says we'll blunt the knives!” Bofur, that was his name! But the way he looked, the mischievous twinkle that so beset the Took and Brandybuck lines, had both Bagginses drawing back almost as if struck. Because they knew that look so well. And then Kíli started a song.

“ _Blunt the knives, bend the forks!_ ” He grinned wide at Fili and Bilbo, all of the dwarfs and even Gandalf joining into the beat of it.

“ _Smash the bottles and burn the corks!_ ” This from Dís before the rest of the group chimed in, laughing loudly.

“ _Chip the glasses and crack the plates. That's what these two Baggins hate!_ ” More flying dishes, pots and pans spinning and Bilbo and Fili crowding close as they tried not to lose their tempers. Fili especially, with his destructive temper. But it was after that line that they noticed Gandalf had moved and given Thorin the chair he'd been sitting in.

Arathorn's chair, laid untouched for so many years, made them want to chase them all out and make them never come back. How dare they assume they could use it? The two frowned and realized someone, one of them, had eaten the scones. Something in them clenched but they listened to the song instead.

“ _Cut the cloth, tread on the fat!_ ” Plates began piling in Ori's arms and he grinned wide. “ _Leave the bones on the bedroom mat! Pour the milk on the pantry floor. Splash the wine on every door!_ ” The dwarf wandered by, knitted sweater brushing Bilbo's arm as he moved to place the plates somewhere. “ _Dump the crocks in a boiling bowl! Pound them up with a thumping pole!_ ” Bifur caught some knives and forks headed his way there. “ _And when you're finished, if they are whole. Send them down the hall to roll!_ ”

A large group pushed in front of the two, Ori, Kíli, and Nori grinning and clicking mugs together. “ _That's what these two Baggins hate!_ ” And then everything was stacked as they shoved forward, glancing up at the wizard who seemed to think this was _acceptable_. The plates and bowls and everything might have been cleaned but it was his _mother's china_ and it and her glory box as well as the never touched room she and his father had slept in were all that was left of her.

He vaguely noted Fili asking Ori which of them ate the scones, finding it was actually _Thorin_ and their distaste for him mounted a bit. He seemed companionable enough given time but he'd touched the chair that was never touched and ate the scones that always went stale. But he mentioned none of this and Fili merely smiled and nodded a bit when the young scribe asked if they were meant for the two residents.

Of course, in the end, his first impression really should have been his main one for Dís. Because Thorin finally brought up the why of their being there. “Looks more like a grocer than a burglar,” he said, and Fili and he nearly hit the dwarf. But the sole female beat them to it, smacking him in the back of the head and seeming to glare him into submission.

“My brother's manners are apparently worse than a trolls then!” She'd said that and everyone went about putting dishes away, cleaning the mess and leaving Bilbo and Fili to watch Dís and Thorin argue in their language. But of course, they didn't realize why they were paying attention. A huff, the hobbit pushing his dwarf child to the sink and pulling out sandwiches he'd secreted away at the start of it.

“ _Do you think they mean to take me away then?_ ” They didn't notice the odd look the dwarfs and wizard gave them at Fili speaking in Hobbitish. The brunet pat his arm, shaking his head and nudging his thigh with his hip.

“ _If they try, well, I won't be the only hobbit beating them away from the Shire for good._ ” They nodded, quickly finishing their food and watching as dwarfs settled into the chairs again. Their fingers twitched at Thorin sitting in Arathorn's chair again, lips turning down to frowns. Then came the discussion of weapons, and Bilbo couldn't help but want to laugh.

“Sword or ax?”

“I'm rather good at conkers, actually.” He'd earned a derisive snort but Fili just snickered. They could fight, of course, training with the Rangers ensure that, but he didn't much like using the sword and never used an ax. His bow and his daggers were his weapons. But they all settled anyway. Let them think as they please, he thought. Eventually, though, Bilbo listened to the mentions of the quest. And then the dragon.

“ **Incineration?** ” It sounded choked out, and then Bofur started explaining it. Flesh melting off bone, furnace with wings, boiling of skin, heat so intense it put Mount Doom to shame. He got images of Fili meeting the fate explained, face going steadily whiter and palms getting sweaty. They were likely wanting Fili along and Bilbo was just a bonus. No.

“Are you all right?” He wasn't sure who was saying it, hands shaking as he stared blankly at the contract. Trying to work his throat didn't happen and all it did was leave him feeling sick. They wanted Fili to go put himself into the most dangerous situation he could and they thought it was okay. No.

“Dad?” The voice just made it worse, hearing Fili screaming to fit the vision in his mind. He could die and Bilbo wouldn't be able to stop it. He gave a small smile and chuckle, looking at his son briefly before speaking one final time.

“Nope.” Black met him to the sound of Fili calling for him.

-

He shot up, staring blankly at Fili as he shouted and stumbled back. He gave a sheepish grin, watching him rub his forehead with a huff. “Thanks so very much, Dad, so lovely to have a bruise right in the middle of my forehead.” He shook his head, glaring balefully at Gandalf when he approached.

“No.” The wizard seemed taken aback but continued on anyway. “I'm going to rest here some more and you lot are welcome to rest here but no.”

“What happened to the young Bilbo I knew who so enjoyed adventure?” Fili scowled as well at this, about ready to interfere. The hobbit just held up a hand. “Why do you care more for your mother's china than the excitement you know, in your Tookish heart, you need?”

“It's all I have left of her Gandalf! You know this. And don't make it seem like her china is what's holding me back!” He started at his own words a moment before nodding. “I'd very well enjoy a good adventure but this is not any sort of such thing! This is a march to death and you know it. You think me stupid, wizard? What reason do I have to lead my son to what is _certain doom_?” The wizard moved to open his mouth but Bilbo stood, quickly, glaring venom at him.

“Dad, come on, not worth it,” Fili said, tugging him back down and smiling softly at him. “Besides, even if they weren't you really think I'd run off with a bunch of strangers? Baggins, remember?” The hobbits eyes closed, their foreheads resting together, large hands covering his hands. “Besides, King of the Grump over there insulted you, can't rightly run around with people who do that, can I?”

He lowered his voice, Hobbitish coming from him easily. “ _Besides, he sat in Erin's chair and ate his scones._ ” Bilbo let a small smile slip to his face, the small little name the Shire folk gave him reminding him of Arathorn's reaction. He'd laughed, shrugged a bit, and then scurried away with his face red and laughter bubbling.

“Please, make yourselves at home for the night or however long you need to stay, there's plenty of room.” That said, they stood and walked to the bedroom hall, writing onto parchment attached to the doors in groups. They'd sleep well, he felt. But still, they moved to their rooms and got ready for bed.

It was when Fili climbed into his bed, curling around him, chest to his back, that the song started. The first tones of it shook them to their bones, curling together tighter. Their loss made the two members of the Baggins household feel badly for them.

“ _Far over the misty mountains cold. To dungeons deep and caverns old. We must away, ere break of day. To find our long forgotten gold._ ” The two had suppressed a snort at the gold. What need of gold was there when their home had been taken? But they knew, because Arathorn explained it, that the gold was part of the home and to lose one's gold as a dwarf was often the sign of a broken home.

Dís' voice came to on his second line, sounding low amongst them both. So similar to her brother's that only because they knew she was a woman they could tell it was her. Then all joined in. “ _The pines were roaring on the height. The winds were moaning in the night._ ” The only voice they couldn't pick out from it was that Bifur fellow's but they knew it was because he couldn't seem to speak common. “ _The fire was red, it flaming spread. The trees like torches blazed with light._ ”

They waited, waited until each and every set of feet shuffled to a bedroom. They were safe there, in the corner room. Fili's room was directly beside Bilbo's and the one across was his parents' room. Arathorn's sat beside theirs and they'd set locks upon it with his death.

They lied there, curled in a ball, arms around Bilbo's middle and large dwarf nose pressed to his curls. He sighed, humming lightly. The song he'd shared to Arathorn last, Berrirose's song to Oropher. “Dad?”

“Yes, Fili?”

There was a pregnant pause, fingers flexing into his stomach. The dwarf seemed overly saddened by... something. “If we go with... we might lose each other.” A nod, throat working because that was why he'd said no in the first place. “But... we'd be helping them with their home. They'd have one again.” Another nod, the hobbit curling further and his son curling with.

The pause came again, heavy and uncomfortable.

“We're going... aren't we?” Together, they nodded, standing and sneaking out to the dining room and to the contract. Together, they wrote their names, as they did when they signed anything together, Bilbo's above Fili's, each doing one half of the Baggins name. They went back, packed for the trip quietly, cloaks over the bags and weapons ready to be strapped on later.

They slept briefly, barely noting the passing of a shadow by their door. But hobbits have keen ears and Bilbo caught Dís, Kíli, and Thorin outside, muttering something in their odd, odd tongue. Tomorrow would be different. He worried, like every parent worries, and knew, without a doubt, he would protect his son with his dying breath. He could only hope that it never came to that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did I mention before there'd be a bit of a surprise? Because that's it. Dis is the surprise. Some quotes are ripped directly from _The Hobbit_ book or movie! The song versions are from the movie but most the lines I quoted were from the book!


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Languages are nice and so is lembas. No, Gandalf, you don't get to know Hobbitish.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, 2904 word chapter for you! For some reason my tenses kept switching through this chapter but I... don't feel like changing it. Whoops.

There's a commotion in the sitting room, Gandalf muttering curses to himself while Bilbo and Fili look on in utter amusement.

The morning started with the two Baggins folk slipping out of bed, dressing, checking their packs for everything, and sliding into the kitchen to begin cooking breakfast. Their weapons are tucked firmly to their packs, hidden beneath the tablecloth. Bilbo's bow, Fili's axes and both of their larger daggers. Both of the ones Arathorn had gifted them were tucked on their persons, the small knives also hidden amongst folds of clothes.

Apparently the smell of breakfast was enough to rouse _all of them at once_ and Bilbo was suddenly met with all the dwarfs and Gandalf sitting for food. Fili had very purposefully set their tea set at Arathorn's chair and soon they were both ensconced on the large chair and eating with all the others. Which eventually brought them to the point they were at. Because they'd seen the bow and the two axes.

They also noted the cloaks. But couldn't place the familiar fabric or brooch. What really got them going was Bilbo brushing and braiding bits of Fili's hair, clasping it with wooden beads and smiling as Fili redid his own braid (he so often tucked it away now). As with every year since Fili had managed to get so tall, the hobbit had been forced to use a stool.

But apparently the dwarf lady Dís had had enough of whatever it was that Thorin and Kíli were on about and had stormed by. Bilbo had accidentally tugged as he fell backwards and it was only his son's quick hands that kept him from finishing the drop. But the trip had made him kick over his pack and his bow was revealed and suddenly Thorin seemed outraged for a _lie_ and... oh.

"A very many pardons, but you said-"

"And we're quoting here-"

"' **Sword or ax?'** " They dropped their voice down to try and imitate him but failed. Still, they drew smiles from some of them, even though Bilbo was stepping down and placing away the stool. Fili set about fixing their packs once again and then helping his dad with it. The hobbit returned the favor, the pair muttering to each other in Hobbitish.

" _Not very bright is he, Dad?_ " He laughed, shaking his head and pulling the blond head down to press a kiss to the other Baggins' forehead.

" _What can you expect? Obviously the brains goes to the women!_ " They shared a laugh at that, bumping foreheads once again and then watching Kíli and Dís scuffle a bit. The young dwarf was flushing and embarrassed. Reminded him of when Fili was younger. And the first bath he'd given the dwarf-ling. The fondness seemed to course through the two dwarfs' relationship as well. It made the hobbit happy, for reasons he couldn't quite explain.

And then they realized they'd be riding ponies and they about considered beating their heads into the nearest rock face. Because hobbits, born or honorary, do not like their feet off the ground. When they approached them, foul tempered as they could be, he took immediately to the meaner of the two. Fili had huffed, watching with amusement as the ill-tempered pony chewed a bit on his dad's hair.

"All right now, I'm going to need to be riding you for us to get anywhere." She gave him a bit of a glare but otherwise bent enough for him to do the swing up the Rangers had taught him. When she righted, Bilbo saw Fili on his own, the mare nickering quietly to her companions. His son was laughing a bit at his talking to a _pony_ but the hobbit just grinned, nudging him gently.

"Talking to ponies now, Dad?" And Bilbo winked because what else should he do or have done? His son was in good spirits, the pony wasn't as rightly evil as it could be, and it wasn't in competition with hair flipping like Thorin's. He and Fili had to suppress laughter at that, only managing when Bofur and Ori slid up on either side and engaged their attention.

"You know, I've been curious since last night, but why were you so much more welcoming?" Ori fidgeted, the question making the two Baggins folk glance between each other. Welcoming? They were just entertaining guests! And... oh. They shared a nervous laugh, slipping into Hobbitish to try and work out a very decent explanation.

Fili's mustache swung a bit as he rapidly spoke, eyes firmly on his dad and the hobbit returning the look. " _I mean, we should tell them the truth right? Because that dwarf up there already hates us enough as it is._ " Bilbo shot a glance to Thorin, noticing him seemingly sulking up at the front with Dís by his side.

" _Me, you mean. I don't think he quite hates you,_ Fili _, not a bit._ " A blond brow was quirked but otherwise he said nothing, humming softly to himself as he considered things. Bilbo chanced a glance at Ori and Bofur, noting that they seemed interested in how they spoke. "Well, it comes with the fact that Fili is a dwarf by nature and a hobbit by nurture. Most the Shire likely thought you meant to take him off, never mind should he wish for it or not."

Fili nodded his assent, patting Ori on his knit covered arm. "Hobbits are naturally suspicious of outsiders besides. And no matter how much a dwarf I am by blood I've been raised a hobbit and a hobbit never lets their family be taken." They nodded to each other, contemplating the road ahead. The group would be in Bree by the morrow and after that most signs of civilization would be gone.

Lunch was a quick thing and somehow the hobbit was happy he knew how to make due with certain leaf types. He and Fili hated it, because they were used to six or seven meals a day (upwards of ten if they had enough guests), but they were fine otherwise. He contemplated the piece of fabric in his pocket, wondering as to why Bofur would do such a thing. But then, dwarf ways were not hobbit ways and this piece of fabric that spoke of the highest platonic affection a friend can offer a hobbit might just be cloth to a dwarf.

Bree is a quick affair, they stay the night, gather some extra supplies and nearly leave immediately. But are stopped by familiar Rangers, coming up to Bilbo and Fili and clasping arms with them before they get back on their ponies. They chatter excitedly to the hobbit and his dwarf child in Sindarin, making Thorin's eyebrows furrow and his face become thunderous.

" _We were just on our way to you to give you more arrows, a gift from our current head!_ " This they say as they hand him over a bundle of arrows that he slid into the quiver. They also passed two new packs that they affixed to the ponies and smile wide with a mention of lembas bread. The pair laugh, nodding along with the two Men folk.

" _This adventure, be sure to come back from it!_ " The second one's smile drops as he says this, shows he means it. They're his friends, yes, but even they might not be able to be there in time. But they know what it is, they say, the wind and rock whispered to them about it.

" _ **Keep your ears to the ground and return with any whispers, friends, and may your feet be ever light.**_ " The pair chorused this, pressing foreheads to both smaller men. The familiar farewell, started by Arathorn, warmed them to the core. They nodded, smiling and patting them on their arms.

" _ **May the path see you to the end.**_ " And with that, two two groups departed in separate ways, Bofur and Ori sidling up alongside them again and the four engaging in conversation about music and language. After all, they speak Common and Sindarin (not to mention Hobbitish), but the two hadn't really seen it as a big thing.

At least, not until they had camped a few days later. The two Baggins folk had begun to make note of how people reacted, mostly of Dís and how she treated the lot.

Dís, they find, is a fantastic person. She's sweet when talking to young ones and it took Bilbo explaining with a pinched face how little hobbits lived in comparison to dwarfs for her to realize he was right at half his life. Or so he said, never mentioning the elf blood that made Tooks at least up to 150 years. But she had smiled and nodded. She was fierce in her protective nature, strong and sure in her ways. Kíli and Ori (and even Fili now) bear the brunt of it all with happy smiles and embarrassed flushes.

Her manner is brusque and rude, but she's sweet to those she cares for in her own way. More often than not, they don't go more than half an hour without her smacking Thorin somewhere for something he says or does. She slams foreheads with Dwalin and Balin, clasps arms with Glóin and Óin, fusses with Dori over Nori and Ori while still hitting the former when he mentions thievery. Bofur and Bombur talk to her about food, children, and working in the mines. And then Bifur, who has troubles communicating, plays word games with her until she's laughing so hard she near falls off her pony.

How she treats Bilbo and Fili strikes him as odd but not unwelcome. She treats Fili much like she treats Kíli but also with the same sort of distance that she grants Ori. They put that to him not being her child but still being young by dwarf standards. They had learned that Fili was seven years past his majority year but she laughed and nodded at hobbit reasoning for 80. With Bilbo, she treated him much like one would a particularly close sibling, frequently helping without mention and it rankled him slightly.

But Bilbo finds he's happy his son is in the company of such a fine woman and that she cares for the Company where it seems her brother doesn't. But the hobbit can tell he does, even with how he acts about the two Bagginses.

He and Fili are chatting amiably when Gandalf sits in front of them, Dís beside him, and they smile at them. They turn their attention away from the oddity of dwarfs and how they seem content on driving Bilbo mad with calling them the _Bogginses_ despite knowing better. Or, in Thorin's case, ignoring Bilbo completely aside from suspicious glares.

"If you don't mind my asking, Master Hobbit, how did you come across young Master Fili here?" They flinch, thick blond brows furrowing. And then he's off, giving a ranting, raving, curse-filled spiel to his dad in Hobbitish. He ignores the dark look that settles on Bilbo's face until fingers pinch his ear and he realizes what, exactly, he was saying.

"The rest of them might not understand you, Fili Baggins, but I most _certainly_ do! You were raised better than to talk like that in company of others," he scolds, watching his son flush a bit in shame. And he huffs, releasing the ear and staring at a loose braid with a huff. His fingers are quick to comb through and fix the braid, five strands tying together and bead slipping into place and settling more securely on it.

"We don't talk about that, Mistress Dís, sorry." This said, they start eating again, watching her face for a reaction. But she just nods, smiling, and looks on them both fondly.

"I understand your worries, Masters Baggins, but you have nothing to worry about. I know how hard it is to lose a child and a parent, I wouldn't wish it on anyone, even my worst of enemies," and that smile grows, something kind and sweet, bearded face showing genuine happiness. "Were my son taken in by someone like you, I think I could rest easy, no matter how I wish to see him again."

Bilbo smiled sadly, passing her a piece of lembas and watching in amusement as she munched on it curiously and actually liked it. Gandalf gives a huff, gray beard flapping with the breath. He mutters, as a wizard is prone to doing, and the pair of Shire folk look at him crossly. "We're aware, however, that what you came over here for is to know what we've been speaking," Bilbo starts and Fili picks up, as they are wont to do.

"Because even the wizard doesn't know it-"

"And this unsettles him greatly, friend as he was to earlier hobbits-"

"But he doesn't seem to understand something quite important," Dís is smiling smugly and the two talking in tandem know she gets their meaning already. Gandalf's brows are up beneath his forehead.

" **The language of hobbits is not for outsiders.** " And that, more than anything, speaks mountains as to how the Shire feels for Fili. Because all hobbits of age had helped him learn, had taught him to speak as a hobbit would learn. And they'd heard dwarf folk also guarded their language with a fierceness that put a dragon and its hoard to shame. The wizard has the sense to look cowed, fingers twining on his chest. Meddlesome wizard, unable to properly meddle without full knowledge of the world?

Nope.

"Now, Master Hobbit-"

" **Bilbo and Fili, please, no need for such formalities.** " They smile at her laugh, the way it seems strong as her singing voice. They wonder if it's their talking as one or just their words.

"Very well, Bilbo, Fili, what I'm really interested in is if I'm correct, as I usually am, that your weapons were made by the Rangers of the North." And they laugh, because she caught on quickly, and nod hugely. It's not so much a secret that hobbits know Rangers, but weapons might seem odd. If one of the two hobbits weren't actually a dwarf. And if the Company hadn't met some of the Rangers in person. "And they taught you then?" Another pair of nods, blue eyes settling on them warmly. "Did you ever meet the Blue Wizards?"

"Once, on one of their journeys through to check on the whole of the Rangers. They were rather rude until they realized bad behavior banned them from Shire Pudding." Bilbo laughed at that, Fili nodding sagely to his own words. Obviously, the dwarf woman could tell hobbits loved good food and to share it, meaning the Blue Wizards were hideously inappropriate with their rudeness.

"But as Fili said, it was just the once. No floppy hats, just blue cloaks. And some bluish gray in their hair. Fantastic archers though, never seen another hit a target quite like they did."

"I am merely glad you know to protect yourselves and each other. There's always a chance we might not be able to help." Oh, they understand that too well. "Also, I find myself enamored with your playing a word game on my brother. Impressed, actually."

They pass time as one does in any form of camp, talking and then preparing to sleep on uneven and horribly uncomfortable ground. Kíli settled by them, wanting to talk more to the pair. Even Ori was too old to really be even with him. At least a full 15 years older than Fili. So they get it, too easily. And they chat, Kíli's attention on the only other archer as he fiddles with an arrow.

"What weapons do you use?" He's bouncing in place, making them look at each other with small smiles.

"Bow, conkers, daggers."

"Axes, sword, daggers." He looked between them and smiled widely.

"What's conkers anyway?" They laughed, explaining what exactly it was. His faced paled a bit at the idea of being hit with one before he'd started bombarding them (mostly Fili) with questions about how such and such a thing worked with them, did you make any special, how often did they break, anything he could. He moved to questions about Fili's weapons, and then about Fili.

That had made the blond consider him, smiling gently and saying they needed rest and thank you for the questions before grabbing his dad and firmly tucking himself around him and under the blanket. Kíli looked a tad bit put off and Bilbo pat his arm in a comforting manner before he stood and went to settle with his mother and uncle.

Again, it should be remembered that hobbits have keen eyes and keener ears. And so when Bilbo caught mentions of Fíli between the leaders of their group, he gave half a listen before discarding it. Fingers curling over his son's arms, he let a small grin grace his features. An adventure, indeed, but what's more, a chance for Fili to get a bit of the wanderlust out of his system.

Fili curled more securely around him, nose in his dad's hair and eyes on the group across the fire through his hair. The pair would likely be awake much longer still and wake far before most the dwarfs. _But it's best to listen and look_ , hobbits often said, _when you're resting is when the company you keep shows itself true_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As I said, tense switching. But mostly! Dís had a big old idea that Fili is Fíli but isn't... able to say he actually is! She is in that state of... MY INSTINCTS SAY THIS IS MY SON and then BUT HE DOESN'T ACT LIKE MY SON. Cognitive dissonance. Gandalf is a meddler. Still. But he's not allowed to learn Hobbitish. Ever.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Names are given and... yeah, Thorin? You're a dead dwarf.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Super duper sorry for the delay! I had this all planned out and then I got my glasses annnnnd I lost my thought train? Ha. Hahaha. This is MOSTLY a filler chapter. I have been fighting migraines for a week now. Ha. Haha. End notes have translations/names.

They were a while into their journey still, close enough to the Shire that the stillness of the forest was unsettling. They would have commented but Fili went out of his way to avoid talking to Thorin and Bilbo was rather fed up with the stubborn dwarf. The only time his son would acknowledge their leader is when he would be given an order or some such, doing so before returning to his dad. The few times those of Durin had tried to call him over, Fili had made it perfectly clear it wouldn't happen.

(Bilbo may or may not have scolded him for it.)

Still, they were making friends with the younger members of the Company and, somehow, being friends with Ori ensured the others of the Brothers Ri being their friends. And caretakers. And the Family Ur seemed to enjoy their company as well. Often, Bilbo would have complex arguments with Bifur over what green things were tastier in what way in signs flying by too rapidly for most to catch. Fili was closest to Bofur of the three and both Baggins folk had a soft spot for Bombur. After all, he was quite the respectable size for a hobbit.

(They had arguments in Hobbitish over how, exactly, Bombur did his braid. So far they were very divided on this topic.)

The stillness in the air was uncomfortable for the pair of Shire-folk, though they dare not voice it. Gandalf, despite the earlier anger towards him, was quickly becoming one of the only ones they could confide their thoughts in. They spouted out Sindarin quickly to voice their problems, muttered about directionally challenged leaders and the _wrongness_ of the forest.

(They didn't know but that night would be horrible to deal with.)

"Dúsig, atir!" Bilbo jerked awake, hand on a dagger until he saw his son crouched in front of him. "Is én ba réd." The hobbit groaned but sat up, aware of the fact that _most of the camp_ was still asleep. Meaning Bilbo was woken up, as per usual, because Fili was far beyond an early riser. In fact, he'd stayed up once to see and the boy barely even slept! But he grumbled and sat up anyway, yawning before taking the offered food.

"Graib mith agt, Fili," he replied, chewing thoughtfully on the jerky he'd been handed. It had become second nature in the past few days of travel to only ever refer to his son as that name. To hobbits, a name was chosen at the age of adulthood. That is why they were so secretive before then. Because only one who was trusted could be told that. That and, according to the outside world, their male names were female and vice versa.

Honestly! Big Folk....

"Atir, bim fosach...." Eyebrow raised, he looked over, watching the blond fiddle with his braids. There was something in the ground beneath their feet that was unsettling them. The ponies felt it, they felt it, it was no wonder the other dwarves didn't. Though Kíli seemed to have a sense of it. Fili had mentioned he'd never question the two family figures extremely present in his life. It was true, too. "Dfédfah sia bith aro mthair?"

The question startled him into full wakefulness and he frowned. She'd mentioned something about that. Hadn't she? He'd heard of people who became so far from what others expected that they could never say for sure something was or wasn't. And Dís often spoke fondly of her Fíli. "Dfédfah sia, Fili, dfédfah sia." He flashed a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes as many had not as of late. With each thing of dwarves his son learned the more he worried. But he would always ignore some of the less hobbit-like things.

"Ah, Bilbo! Mind helping us with breakfast?" The female leader of the Company, for there really were two, bustled over with a wide grin, hands on her hips. Really, he could only tell them apart because of small nuances in her stance and voice. Also her beard. Much fuller. And braided. Still, he nodded and sent a small wave to Fili while he made up their bedrolls.

Likely, he'd have to deal with him grouching later. Because he was a Baggins-Took and that lot were a bunch of fussers and worriers. Why him today and not Fili? Why not both? Obviously, he needed to remind his child that they weren't going to kidnap him. They'd made that amendment to the Contract quickly. And so far they'd learned a fair bit about how the dwarves acted when they felt the Baggins pair were asleep. And what assigned them their named. Such like Arathorn being Erin but truly Éireann to anyone who knew their tongue.

Ori was prone to not taking watch at all. Nor was he allowed to cook after apparently burning something simple. This meant he would sketch and write until he fell asleep or one of his brothers told him to get some rest. Other than that, he liked to mutter about star forms and what could be which. He hadn't heard of many of what they referred to. But, for instance, it appeared The Hunter that the Rangers knew that was known to the hobbits as The Clogcilín, or The Clock Girl, was referred to as The Great Keeper. Odd, what you could pick up from a scribe muttering in the night.

They decided he would be Ashling should they slip the name into the sentence but truly be Aisling. They'd laughed at the odd expression he would get when he noted they actually spoke of people at times in their odd, odd language. But Ashling was sweet and therefore was worthy of a true name. They couldn't help but befriend him and that, even though he mentioned the Fili or Fíli topic he never really ventured further into the conversation. He was polite and it warmed them.

nori was a trouble maker and tried to get his son into trouble. Fili had noted, though, that on nights he wasn't on watch the thief would set up twice as many traps that he would know if things were creeping into their camp. He also had it in his mind to make Bilbo a real burglar. Yes, obviously this would be smart, you know, if the Rangers hadn't beaten him to it. Not for theft of object but for the ability to slip a weapon from a foe to defend himself.

Still, he had good intentions with it and it only made sense to give him a name as well. Eve was obviously going to be his outer name but not the public name. And, really, that was fine. It took them a couple days to decide on it, made him give them odd looks when he caught them staring to puzzle it out. They finally settled firmly on Fiona as well as Fíona for the other name. Simple because despite how ornate his braids were, he seemed to prefer simple things he could understand easily. Actually, he's what spurred them into deciding the Brothers Ri should be with the simplest names.

Not that they knew that.

With Dori, it would have been harder if they weren't charmed by his fussing and mothering. When it was his watch turn, he walked about the camp every half hour or so to be sure everyone was still doing well and, even though Nori grumbled about it, he could tell both the younger Brothers Ri approved. Fili had seen him get this fond look on his face when he regarded most their sleeping companions and his keen eyes had noted the lilies embroidered into the inside borders of his coat. They were subtle but there.

So, he was Lily and Lile in their most private occasions. They would never tell him that, of course, it would ruin the amusement that they got from him asking why they were so focused on lilies. he'd huff and puff but apparently he was happy he didn't have to worry himself hairless at their expense. Because like many of the older warriors, they woke at any foreign noise. But then that sent him into a tizzy of worry over why they did that. They didn't have the heart to tell him it was part of training of Shire-folk in general.

Though they did let slip that most hobbits took up a ranged weapon. Except for Farmer Maggot and people like him who apparently thought a giant scythe (or whatever tool they worked with) was much better. This got a chuckle out of him, the idea of a hobbit carrying around such a deadly thing so easily. Except he's a farmer, so it's understandable.

Once they'd named the Brothers Ri, the pair had taken out their book and written the named quickly, Bilbo following with a quick sketch of each of their faces at the bottom of the page. The sheer and smooth sheet between each page kept the information from smearing. They also added a few anecdotes. Things like hair color, favorite word to use, that such.

The next was the one with the ax in his head, Bifur. That, more than anything, disconcerted them. They'd asked him, as a pair together, if he could understand them in Common seeing as they spoke to each other quite the same as they spoke to him through signs Bofur taught them. He'd nodded his affirmative and they'd been delighted to know that, though his speaking wasn't quite right anymore, he still could listen. Also, they had someone who liked vegetation as much as meat.

(Or, in his case, more than meat.)

Bifur became Emer and éimhear when he responded to their quickly shot Ranger signs. It had been a bad moment for him and they'd shot Ranger signs to each other across camp before Bifur had growled something in Khuzdul and then signed _right on back_. Apparently, he'd gotten lost in thought and a branch had caught the ax. It tugged and, of course, hurt. He hadn't bled but it was still painful. With a look, Fili continued on with helping to gather firewood while Bilbo signed quickly to Bifur to find out what he needed for the pain to stop. Bilbo remembered his cousin, Iris, who had taken such a hard knock to the head that she couldn't do much but talk in Hobbitish.

Her words often slurred further and he could never quite get the image of what seemed to be a hole in her head out of his mind. It wasn't, just horribly ruined flesh when she refused to get it treated. It hurt him to lose the ability to talk to her in their odd little made up language but she'd... mostly relearned it. " _Tám gmith,_ " she'd say and he never questioned it. She was still her, just a bit hampered. She managed.

She's the one who taught Fili the best way to climb a tree and to brace himself if he fell. They could see a similar person in Bifur, someone who may not be able to express the same person as before but still, under it all, was.

Also, as a note, he had a habit of filching their dried fruits.

Bombur liked to cook and liked to eat more. he also, apparently, actually liked the dried meats the Baggins pair had packed. They'd given up trying to keep Bifur from snatching it when Bombur would ask him to. Instead they'd sat the pair down and stated that no, in no uncertain terms, were they going to be filching the food. They needed to know how much was eaten and how much could be spared after all. But they were willing to share and soon they had a habit of passing him some jerky to the rotund dwarf.

Still, it wasn't until the third day, when Bombur served Fili his food and left a bowl by him for Bilbo, that they gave him his names. He took care to never separate the people he fed and often was left out of watch. But he was a good dwarf and deserved one. So, he was Julia and also Iúile and the pair had to argue about that for a bit. Much to the amusement of the cook.

Bofur was a tricky one to name, cheery as he was, so attached to his flute. They had come to not even mentioning the hat. Because he couldn't part from it. Ever. Also, he was always on first or last watch. And why? Because he was cheery enough to where he might keep everyone up with all his... happy flute playing or cheery chatter. Actually, the Baggins had taken to making sure he slept before they did or they woke before his shift. Because otherwise they might never sleep.

But it was his fondness for the ponies that struck the name to their minds. Molly! Simple and cheery sounding. Cheery like Bofur. Really and ridiculously cheery. Actually, at times they were slightly amazed at how he was, so happy was he that they were... kind of blown away with it. Reminded Bilbo of his mother, actually. Which is where his second name came from, because they could have given him anything and instead they called him Mallaidh. As their first true friend (aside from the incineration comment), they felt Bungo would be proud to share his name with the dwarf.

With the Family Ur named, they repeated the process that they took with the Brothers Ri. Bifur, however had an extra page devoted solely to the signs he'd made up a very long time ago. Actually, he had at least twenty. Homesigns, he had called them, not the dwarvish sign language but instead the type of thing that made sense to him.

(It amuses them that the sign for 'hat' is also how Bifur signs about Bofur.)

Óin is both a welcome companion to the younger Baggins and a nuisance to the elder (and he laughs at the fact that the younger is the parent and the elder is the child. Frequently. In excess, Fili believes.) but a welcome presence all the same. When the Company's self-assigned medic sits with them during his watch, it's obvious that though he's deaf he's not completely foolish. But he had, and continued, to make it seem as if he was waking them. Actually, his worrisome tizzies beat Dori's at times and Bilbo and Fili had to get GlóIn talking about his wife to get him to stop.

But still, it was how much he cared for the Company that decided his name. Though they had to ignore the fact that he'd insinuated hobbits needed shoes for their feet. Even Fili had stopped needing those years before. As of then, he mostly wore them for the amusement factor. But still, he'd turned away and they'd finally decided, what with it being the first time he trusted them to be at his back, to give him the names. Óin became Mór and further developed into Móirín. And as thanks for the dwarf patching up a cut Fili had received, they'd explained, just a bit, why they were so easily annoyed in the beginning. A test, if you will, one to see how they might react.

Apparently that meant it was time to hit them over the back of the head for their worrying at how they might be received.

Of all the dwarves, however, even with Ori, Bofur, and the Durin pair, Glóin was arguably their closest friend of the older dwarves. He reminded them of home, of loud laughter and darling children running about. His stories of Gimli struck them in such a way that they couldn't help but adore him. Often, though, they noted the obsession he had with his wife and son's red hair. Apparently his wife's was even brighter than his or Bombur's. Gimli had inherited it and they had to suppress laughter as he broke into poetry over his wife and son and how they were gorgeous.

Really, their friend was a bit too much, to be perfectly honest, at times. They felt bad when they started to doze off once in the midst of a story but the jolly dwarf had just laughed, patting them so hard they stumbled forward. The things is, they still had no idea what to call Glóin and they were rather annoyed with that. There were many named that fit to a person such as him but nothing seemed to quite work.

Or at least, it didn't until he near lit his beard on fire and they quite literally smacked their faces in exasperation. Red had many meanings in their society. Blood red was the color of passion, bright red the color of love, brick red, soft red, all the reds. They all fit him so well. So what to name him? Glóin became Flann, red obviously being what was meant for him. And from there he became Flannán, though the dwarves thought, when they named him, that they were talking about the fire.

The pair were documented, written and drawn, and they made a rather large note that no matter how wonderful they were, both liked to talk. A lot.

Balin was kind, if suspicious over how they knew Rangers of all things. They'd settled that quickly enough halfway through their time with the group when Thorin had said something scathing about elves for no reason other than being himself. The pair had, as one unit, pulled out their knives, displaying them over the campfire.

" _Our weapons, Master Dwarf, are elf made. And it is a well known fact in the Shire that the Tooks, my mother's family, have elf blood within them. Blood or no, this makes Fili elf-folk as well," he'd said, contemplating them both as they laid in his hands. "I asked for help in finding his first family and when there was no word of them, I asked for help in training him to be safe."_

" _The Rangers, Master Dwarf, not only trained me but also trained Dad. To keep me safe from anyone wanting to hurt a gentlehobbit raised dwarf, he learned how to protect himself and me." He grimaced, shifting his knife over his fingers and remembering when Arathorn had gifted it to him. "The Ranger that gave this to us... he was our closest friend."_

" _And Lord Elrond of Rivendell himself forged them on his request. Unlike you, we don't hate elves solely for the fact of their existence. Nor do we hate them for some misdeed more than a century gone by." Bilbo had frowned, considering his next words carefully and looking directly at Thorin for the first time since the journey began. "We are simple folk, Master Oakenshield, we like a warm fire, full bellies, and most of all, we are loyal to our friends and family and would follow them into the shadows of Mordor if we could."_

" _The Rangers, odd as they can be, are our friends and our family. How would you feel if we insulted yours?" Fili watched the expressions play across the dwarf's face before a nod was bestowed on them and they watched him as he held out a hand. Bilbo passed a dagger to him, watched it spin and move in his hand._

" _Your weapon is balanced oddly for an elf blade. But not, I think, for someone who might use it for defense," he breathed out an uncomfortable sigh, returning it, "pray, Master Baggins, that you have no need of that particular weapon." Bilbo would mark this as the first of few moments where he felt a sense of kinship with the exiled king._

Balin told them a tale that night, of Thorin's hatred, the reasons he so desperately seemed ready to hate. It didn't forgive it, he'd said, but it explained it. What they didn't say, however, was that Thranduil likely didn't want his people to fall to Smaug's terror. After all, the forest he lived in housed so  _many_ creatures. To turn Smaug's eye to him would bring more than his wrath but the ruin of so much.

Balin mentioned as much, face grim. He was hurt, deeply, at the lack of aid of the fair folk, but he never held it as strongly against him as Thorin and Dís did. The loss of their brother, Frerin, had all but broken the pair. Even with his white hair, they hadn't ever seen him look so old. So he became Nuala and Fionnghuala. And he was the one they explained their naming customs to. They never said who was who. They just said there were three, one from birth, one from coming of age, and one from their family head for outer folk.

(In return, he told them of there being a similar custom for dwarves, a common and true name both. It appeared that, though their patrons were different, the wed couple had the same idea in mind in the shaping of their peoples.)

Dwalin, despite his gruff exterior, truly cared for their well-being. Not theirs, in the beginning, as much as the rest, but soon enough he'd come to watching for hurts on them as he had everyone else. They remembered the stories of Bullroarer the most when in his presence. He was tall for a dwarf, stronger than most they'd seen but knew he was caring. In a sense. Bilbo had to hit him rather hard in the arm to get it through to him _not_ to roughhouse too much with his son.

So, Dwalin, gruff as he was, reminded them severely of Lobelia. They'd said this and he'd just about seemed offended. But instead, they'd laughed and said that, from them, it was a compliment. Because no one was as fearsome as that tween. So was his namesake, so should he be Theresa and Toiréasa, and so would he be the most fearsome worrier they'd met of the dwarves. named for the largest hobbit there was who was fierce as anything.

The pair were sketched over the span of dinner, little additions from Fili that Bilbo may have missed being sketched up as well. And a cartoon like version of Dwalin and Lobelia in a shouting match on the page over. They'd laughed between themselves at that, the Baggins pair finding the idea far too plausible for their own good.

The youngest of the Durin line was rambunctious, endearing, aggravating, and darling all at once. Once passed his initial mistrust of the odd obsession Kíli had in learning about him, Fili had all but embraced the dwarf as family. They would talk about odd things, this and that, often comparing their parents against each other. From there they compared their closest family aside. Thorin versus Lobelia. Apparently Kíli had met her and she's about shoved him into the river for being A Nuisance to The Sanctity and General Peace of Bagshot Row.

(They'd had to tell him it was capital, all of it. Also, they all agreed Lobelia would win.)

They liked to talk more about odd things that held nothing on the previous conversation. As always, Fili's ability to topic hop was beyond his dad but the young dwarf trio took to it like a fish to water. It was both impressive and frightening and were Bilbo a lesser hobbit he might have slapped his face in consternation over how they managed. One of the few times they managed to _get away_ from Kíli, they sat down and started tossing names back and forth until, finally, they settled on Helen and Léan for him.

Where Kíli went, Dís was not far behind. She protected him with a fierceness that spoke of loss and love all at once. A sense that she'd lost but would never again. But the feeling of love for her family overwhelmed it by far. While she didn't have much to talk on with the gentle folk, she did like to toss daggers back and forth with Bilbo. It had made Fili jumpy at first but quickly he grew to appreciate it. After all, hobbits were excellent at throwing things and Dís seemed to enjoy the act of throwing anything.

Flames would glint off metal, blades never landing in the hands of either the princess or the half-ling, and they'd make up small songs as they did it. As they were riding, she brought up something that had the Baggins pair stall, floundering for an answer before she finished her sentence.

"I imagine you'll have to be used to being treated like a hero when you get back," she'd remarked, grin in place. It fell a bit at the looks they shot each other before they cleared their throats.

"Actually, I'd rather think we'll become outcasts of a sort when we get home again. Adventures aren't done for hobbits, you see," Bilbo sent a grin to his son, nudging him with his elbow, "or for dwarf folk that may as well be hobbits. But there will be an upside! Think, Fili, we may go a whole month without thieving relatives or Lobelia!"

"Well, thieving relatives? Maybe a week, Dad, Lobelia will likely be 'round and about for Elevensies the next Mersday after we get back." There was a shared laugh from the pair but Dís was still frowning, eyebrows furrowed.

"Do you truly not leave your homes much?"

They considered it carefully for a moment before shaking their heads in unison. "No, no, our Wandering days are far behind, thank you," they spared a grin for the princess, hands raised. "But we've come together, Fili and I, to build a home for us."

"Seemed a right shame for you to not have your own." The dwarf had laughed, patting Bilbo so hard on the back he tumbled forward in his saddle. And oh, was he sore, he officially hated riding on ponies. He'd have to make a public statement on their return that riding ponies was _not for hobbits_. Especially Myrtle, what with her oft times sour temper with other ponies. However, most hobbits were of a mind that any pony that were not work ponies were True Evil, even more than any Dark Lord that has come before.

(It made a lot of sense as Bilbo had seen wolves in the Fell Winter run whimpering and whining from an annoyed pony.)

Her friendship with Bilbo, relatively close, Fili might think, was a great annoyance to both Thorin and Myrtle. Especially when she realized how openly affectionate hobbits were, as a rule. She'd taken to giving him a kiss upon waking, one before they retired to their bed rolls and one midday. Bilbo merely laughed, finding it all too hilarious how she was trying to goad her brother into  _something_. With a bit of discussion on her finer features (aside from her rather soft beard), they firmly settled on Edmund. And, similar to Bofur earlier, they gave her a true name of one of Bilbo's parents, Éamonn.

They talked to her of family, Bilbo told her about his parents and Fili of how overwhelmed he was when he first met the entirety of the Took family. The Baggins side was large, yes, but the Tooks were an immense lot. She'd done a spit-take when she'd found out just how many children Old Took had had and the average amount (it was five at the least). It was only because of Fili that he wasn't seen as completely off, because no parent that raised a child not truly their own well could be, he'd been told. He shrugged, mentioned just wanting to do right by his child and that was that.

They came upon a settlement shortly after this decision and as they were stewing over what to call Thorin by. He could be a great many things, but he was also limited by how rude he was. Really, the moment they so much as said anything in Sindarin he'd get this _look_ and start to grumble about _damned elves_ and all that. In the end, there wasn't much for them to do but name him Cecilia and Síle.

As far as they were concerned, his abyssmal attitude did not make him deserve a name. But on the same token, he was leading his people _home_ and even if they didn't like him they respected him. They understood why he acted the way he did, many of the Rangers had done so as well. And they saw in him the bearing that Arathorn tried so hard to hide.

It seemed fitting that he sat in Arathorn's chair and ate his scones when they started noting similarities. Pushing them on until they all wanted to sleep but stopping at the first sign that any of them couldn't take the pace. He would brood but stop when one of his family was happy to smile at them secretly. And he enjoyed stories, even if he tried to pretend he didn't, as well as song, and they delighted in telling folk about their Erin. They never said his real name, for fear of negative repurcussions, but they spoke of him.

(Thorin and Gandalf apologized for using Erin's chair separately, and Thorin grumbled out an additional apology for the scones. They forgave them both. Kind of. Gandalf a little less so for not telling them to expect the dwarves in the first place.)

They'd written these things down as they rested once, due to Kíli laughing enough to fall off his pony and hit his head. That was all it took for the Company to halt for a time. He was fine, yes, but he was the youngest dwarf there. They'd written and sketched quickly, short notes of each of them being placed beneath their pictures. Then they watched, and waited, until the group was on the move again.

Gandalf had been put off at first at not being able to learn Hobbitish, though it tempered when they told him that it wasn't because they didn't like him. It just wasn't done. Fili was different because Fili was family. To apologize for how they reacted to his wanting to know in the first place, they told the story of the Valier and how they decided Yavanna would take some Men and form a new race of Hobbits. As Aulë had done with his dwarves, she crafted a secret language, made them smaller, made them better fit with _her_ earth as opposed to his.

Gandalf had smiled, an oddly wanting look crossing his face. Almost like someone who misses another. He knew that look, it was the look his mother got once every now and then in the eight years after Bungo died. An odd sort of fond mourning, if there could be such a thing. It was then they noted he had moment of truly looking old. Old and tired and truly gray. Líadan, he became, LíadáIn soon after. To be a gray folk, one had to face many trials and tribulations before their naming.

They only had the chance to write this down when they settled in a place that was setting them on edge the longer they stayed. Fili added observations on the staff and Bilbo added notes about how he spoke and acted. It was less unsettling in this part of the woods than it was  _wrong_. And then things started  _going_ wrong and Bilbo swore he would blame Thorin for the rest of his life.

"Take these to the lads, will you?" Yes, obviously, because Thorin had it in his head to send his mischievous child off with his match made in Mordor. He smiled, nodded to Dís, and took off for his child and Kíli. He could hear faint arguing, pointed ears twitching curiously. When he came across them, both were frantically making to do two separate things. Fili was trying to move _back to camp_ and Kíli was trying to keep him there.

"What's going on here?" He sighed, watching them straighten up

"Well, you see, we were watching the ponies-"

"And there were sixteen, right, you know that Dad-"

"But now there's fourteen-"

"And we've no idea where they are."

"And he wants to tell Uncle."

"And he wants to keep it secret."

"Here," he shoved the bowls at them, waited until they started eating, before turning to the ponies and the wreckage of, well, everything. "Sit." Bilbo didn't wait for them to do it, moving as quietly as only a hobbit could and following the great furrows in the earth. Ears twitching, his eyes caught sight of mountain trolls, of all things, sitting there.

He turned back, unsurprised at the fact that Dís was there when he came back. She had a scowl on her face and he noted how quickly Kíli was eating. Fili always ate quickly and it didn't surprise him that there was literally no food in the bowl when he got there. Never mind the fact that the meal hjardly constituted a proper one at all. They'd have to eat some grain later.

"We've a problem. There are mountain trolls. Three." The princess let out a curse and scratched at her head. "Whatever it is we do, Fili, Kíli, and Ori are to stay out of it." She nodded, dragging her son up and motioning for Fili and Bilbo to follow.

It should be noted that, at this point, there is no small amount of animosity from Bilbo to Thorin.

That aside, when they got back there was a great and big shouting match. Apparently the dwarf tactic was to attack and not think about what you were attacking. Except that left a problem as to who might stay behind and watch the young ones. This raised protests from Fili and Kíli both. And that led to a shouting match between parent and child in their native languages.

Bilbo was certain they were saying essentially the same things, too.

But the fact remained that they ended up in a shouting match because their children were convinced they were adults and could handle it. This lead to Bilbo and Dís shouting right on back that adults or no, they were their  _children_ and they would not be going into a fight with trolls. From there, Fili had shouted something foul at Bilbo and the hobbit could only assume Kíli did the same. The dwarf woman hit him lightly over the back of the head and pulled on his ear and soon after he was settled.

Again, it should be noted there was a very large and bulbous amount of animosity between Thorin and Bilbo.

This shown when Thorin shouted at Fili to stop complaining. He had had the audacity to yell at  _Bilbo's child_ and obviously, this was unacceptable. Bilbo turned to Fili and warned him, sternly, in their tongue, that he would be addressing this later. When they were _safe_. And when he turned to Thorin, it was entirely the dwarf's fault that he yanked on the hair by his ears and held firmly.

"You. Do not. Yell. At _my_ son." With that, he let go, and they set about with their plan.

It was decided Bilbo would try and steal the ponies back. Yes, perfect, Bilbo was going to hit Thorin. Still, that was the plan, wait until they were distracted and the dwarves could surprise them. He was attempting to cut open the ropes when a hand reached him. He was quick to slid his knife away though he struggled and tried to... oh no.

No.

No, no, no!

Thorin was going to get gutted!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Will try and update soonish! Also I didn't do much proof reading this time sorry for glaring errors.
> 
> All are Irish names or have an Irish equivalent.
> 
> Ori - Ashling::Aisling ("dream" or "vision")  
> Nori - Fiona::Fíona ("vine")  
> Dori - Lily::Lile ("lily")  
> Bifur - Emer::Éimhear ("swift")  
> Bofur - Molly::Mallaidh ("beloved")  
> Bombur - Julia::Iúile ("downy-bearded")  
> Glóin - Flann::Flannán ("red")  
> Óin - Mór::Móirín ("great")  
> Balin - Nuala::Fionnghuala ("white")  
> Dwalin - Theresa::Toiréasa ("summer" or "to harvest")  
> Kíli - Helen::Léan ("torch" or "moon")  
> Dís - Edmund::Éamonn ("rich protector")  
> Thorin - Cecilia::Sile ("blind")  
> Gandalf - Liadan::Líadáin ("grey lady")  
> .::.:Not Mentioned:.::.  
> Fili - Margaret::Mairéad ("pearl")  
> Bilbo - Neve::Niamh ("bright")
> 
>  **Hobbitish in this is a cobble of Irish Gaelic.**  
>  Dúsig, atir! - Wake up, father!  
> Is én ba réd. - The food is ready.  
> Graib mith agt, Fili. - Thank you, Fili.  
> Atir, bim fosach.... - Father, I was curious...  
> Dfédfah sia bith aro mthair? - Could she be my mother?  
> Dfédfah sia, Fili, dfédfah sia. - She could, Fili, she could.  
> Tám gmith. - I'm good.


End file.
